Davina shrank from him. He believed she had had an affair with Philip and found she didn't want him after all? Is that what was behind all this? How could he think that of her when he knew her so well? Had someone told him a lot of lies? Had Monica… or even Philip… told him this to shield themselves from his anger? Suddenly she was angry, and her anger was stronger than her hurt.
'How can you believe those things of me, your own daughter? What do you know about it? You didn't ask me at the time—you didn't accuse me of all these things. Who's told you all these lies? Who told you what I felt or what I did?'
'I didn't need to be told. I could see it, just looking at you, that last day.'
'That's not fair, and you must know it! Why couldn't you trust me to tell you the truth? Why didn't you tell me of your fears and we could have talked it out?'
'Trust?' His voice was rising dangerously. 'I would have trusted you blindfold to the far corners of the earth. That's what made it worse. You betrayed that trust, mine and your mother's… and Philip's. He trusted you, didn't he? But you're paying the price watching him marry your sister. That seems a fitting punishment.' He breathed deeply. 'I can only say it serves you right.'
'No, David, no!' It was her mother's shocked voice from the doorway. 'It wasn't like that. You know all these things aren't true!' She came to his side, putting her arms round him. 'We must put all this behind us now. Please, darling… please!'
'I'm sorry, mother,' he said firmly, but more quietly, 'but I can't. I permitted you to invite her today because I know how much it means to you to have her here. But Monica feels with me. She's not sure Davina should be here. Now she's here with my permission, but that doesn't mean I condone what she's done.'
Suddenly Davina's control snapped. She shouted angrily, 'I'm sorry you've condemned me unheard! I would never have believed you capable of that. I'm also sorry you invited me down here. But that can be remedied easily. I'll leave first thing in the morning and take my contaminated presence away from you all!'
'No, Davina no!' It was her mother's voice calling her as she ran out of the room, tears streaming down her face, her control finally broken.
CHAPTER FIVE
Afterwards Davina could not remember how long she wandered or where she had gone. The evening was drawing in when she found herself on the dunes, her feet leading her to the sanctuary she had known in times of trouble since she was a child. The small sheltered cove led through tough, high grass steeply down to a tiny inlet where at high tide the sea lapped on to the rocks. It was too small to be of interest to tourists and was deserted even during the holiday season. In the summer it was a sun-trap where Davina used to sit, her back against the heat of rock and sand, undisturbed for hours on end.
Even Monica did not know of her retreat. Only with Philip had she shared it. Here they would meet to be alone, revelling in the quiet, knowing they would not be disturbed.
She was glad of her serviceable, flat shoes and her warm sweater as she sank down on to her favourite smooth, flat stone and leaned back, letting the sounds of sea, wind and birds wash over her.
Her family life seemed in tatters, and she had never felt so alone. Being lonely in company as she had been sometimes in London was bad. But being alone and lonely when with those one loved seemed much worse.
She should never have come. She had wanted to see them all, and had hoped it would be as it used to be, before all the traumas and emotional upheavals. But she had been wrong. It could never be the same again. She had grown up and away from them. And her father could not forgive her for what he thought had happened. The truth he would never hear from her, and she doubted if Monica would ever tell him everything. So there was nothing for her at home any more. If it wasn't for her mother, she would go now, immediately. All she wanted now was to get away, back to London, to her flat, the sanctuary she should never have left.
If she had come without Jake, she could have got into her car after the wedding ceremony and gone home. But she had involved herself in his life and his plans. That, too, had been a mistake. And she was stranded; she couldn't get away. She had promised him she would go to his father on Sunday, and she couldn't let Jake down; she had given her word.
All the complications from which she had tried to guard herself in her agreement with Jake had come to nothing. It didn't matter to her father if she still loved Philip. He would probably feel even that served her right, having to watch her sister marry the man she loved.
She had made a complete mess of her own life, and now she was doing a bad job trying to protect those she loved. She wondered fleetingly if she could ring Jake, ask him to let her out of the arrangement they had, so that she could go home right away. What would he say? By this time would he have mentioned his 'engagement' to his father? Probably, she guessed.
Her mind went round and round, trying to figure out some way, some solution, but nothing made any sense. There was no help anywhere. And her love for Philip… Wearily she leaned her head back against the rock and closed her eyes…
'Davina… a… a!'
Someone was calling her. She woke up with a start, feeling the ache in her back where she had rested against a hard rock.
She remembered where she was and listened. Who could be calling her? It was pitch dark and she must have slept for hours. The tide was right out, and she could hear the wind howling, although she was sheltered from its blast. Her body ached all over as the numbness began to wear off, and she felt cold and damp. Painfully she got up and brushed herself down. At least, with the tide out, she could walk home along the sand and escape a climb up the cliff in the dark.
'Davina!' The voice sounded suddenly much closer She could hear the crunch of footsteps in the wet sand, and her heart thudded into her mouth as she recognised that voice.
It was Philip.
Another minute and he was standing inside the tiny cove. She couldn't move. Of course, it had to be him. If they were looking for her he would be the only one who knew where to find her.
She just stood there looking up at him in the bright moonlight as the wind whipped the clouds suddenly clear of the full moon above. At last she could shed the indifference she had pretended when they met earlier in the day, and she drank in the familiarity of his tall figure.
He came forward in two strides and took her hands, looking down into her face. Without a word he took her into his arms.
'If only you know how I've longed for this moment!' he whispered.
Suddenly she shivered in his arms, not knowing why those words sounded ominous.
'You're cold, my lovely,' he said tenderly, the old endearment touching her as nothing else could have done. He pulled her close inside his coat, close to his body for warmth, and she put her arms round him.
'You remembered this place?' she asked.
'How could you ask?' he said.
'Oh, Philip!' Her voice broke into a tender laugh. 'Do you know you haven't changed at all?'
'Ah, but you have, my dearest. You've grown up,' he breathed, his voice low in her ear. 'You're exquisite, and desirable beyond my wildest dreams'. His voice suddenly broke. 'Oh, my darling,' he muttered, and buried his face in her neck. Davina closed her eyes against his hair, suddenly unnerved by his nearness. As his hold tightened, she felt the familiar roughness of his chin and the hair blowing against her cheek. She put up a hand to smooth it, stroking his neck as he murmured to her. 'Oh, how I've missed you, ached for you, for long months wanted nothing but to hold you in my arms, to tell you how much I love you. Why did you leave me, Davina? Why?'
She was leaning against him, loving the security she always felt in his arms, knowing how much he wanted and needed her. That at least hadn't changed. Philip did still love her.
He looked into her face and then bent his head to kiss her, softly at first, gently and then hungrily, his kiss deepening as he felt her response. All the old familiar feelings came back to her as she kissed him, and everything was the same as it had been when they were togeth
er. It was as though time had not moved, but waited for them to find each other again.
But suddenly memory returned sharply and Davina wrenched out of his hold. 'No, Philip, no! This is wrong, impossible. Please stop…'
'There's nothing wrong about the way I love you, Davina, adore you. I always have, all this time. And I've wanted you every minute, every day. You don't know how much. Don't deny me this. Let me hold you, please, Davina darling.'
She was tempted to slip back into his arms and feel the warmth of his body and his love, especially when their love for each other seemed the only safe thing in a world gone mad with hate and anger. She controlled herself and stood up straight, her hands at her side. She didn't try to make light of it, or pretend she didn't care.
'It's too late for all that, Philip—we both know that. And there's no point in talking. We must get back.'
'No, Davina, please let me look at you, talk to you for a few minutes. Please, my darling, give me that.'
Suddenly Davina felt inexpressively weary.
'No, Philip. I don't know why you're here, but we must go back, and at once. If someone were to see us together, it would be terrible. Just imagine what Monica would feel.'
'Oh, Monica will know where I am.' His voice was hard with contempt, and she flinched at his tone.
'What do you mean?' she asked.
'She knows how much I love you. She knows I pretend I'm making love to you when she's in my arms.' His voice was bitter and full of some kind of pity for himself, and Davina went cold with fear.
'I don't understand what you're saying, Philip.'
'Don't you? It's just that she knows I don't love her. I love you and I always will.' He broke off and his voice changed to entreaty, 'Please, darling, don't leave me again. I couldn't bear it for a second time. You don't know what it does to me to see you…' his voice hardened '… to see you with another man's ring on your finger. I could kill him! If he's had you when I… oh, but all that doesn't matter any more… we've found each other again, and nothing is going to come between us this time.'
Davina went cold at his words. She was finding it difficult to follow what exactly he was saying. This couldn't be Philip, the man she loved, the man she had been faithful to all this time, saying such horrible things, conjuring up pictures that made her feel quite ill. There must be some explanation, and she had to try and understand.
'But you're marrying each other tomorrow. How can you do that when you say you don't love Monica?'
'You might just as well ask how we could have stayed together when she's known all along. I've been honest with her, I've never lied to her or pretended. I wouldn't do that.'
'But, Philip, if that's true how could she be having your baby?'
'You can't still be that much of an infant, my dearest. It's quite possible for a man to take what's being offered and still keep the image of another woman in his heart and mind.'
'Oh, no! No, Philip…' she was sobbing now, 'how dreadful… poor Monica!'
'Look, Davina, I refuse to talk any more about Monica. Anyway, it's not at all certain she's having a baby. I have no proof. For all I know she's making it all up. She wouldn't let me see the doctor. And it has nothing to do with you and me, and it's you and me I'm interested in.'
Davina recoiled from him. This man in front of her, so familiar, was a total stranger. Perhaps she had never known him at all, never understood him. Perhaps it was she who had changed. But for the first time she felt sorry for her sister, loving Philip and getting such a raw deal from him.
'That's enough, Philip.' Her voice was curt. 'I'm going in now. I don't want you to come with me any further. I'll see you tomorrow in church. But I'm engaged now, and in future you'll be my brother-in-law… nothing more and nothing else.' She started to walk up the sands away from him, but he stayed by her side.
'I'm an idiot,' he muttered. 'I keep forgetting you don't know what happened. You think me selfish and unfeeling, heedless of your sister's happiness. Well, let me tell you what really happened after you left.'
'No,' Davina said harshly. 'I don't want to hear any more.'
'Well, you're going to listen, Davina Richards. You owe me that at least for the way you ran out on me without asking me for an explanation.'
She was silent. This was true. She had run out on him, taking Monica's word for what had happened between them.
They continued to walk side by side, but Philip made no attempt to touch her.
'After you left,' he said heavily, 'and sent me the ring back, I just wanted to get away from here… from your family, the job and everyone who knew about us. I gave in my notice and cut all my ties. I wanted nothing round me that reminded me of you, so I went to London. Monica found me there. She'd traced me, and she asked if we could talk, see each other sometimes. I didn't care either way, but I agreed. I explained to her that I still loved you, and that this would not change. Perhaps she didn't believe me. I don't know, but we began to see each other regularly.' His voice changed and became apologetic. 'I was lonely, very lonely. She offered to cook me the occasional meal and then she'd do my laundry on the quiet, without telling me. Before I knew it she had a key to my flat. At first she just stayed the odd few hours in the evenings, and then she offered to clean up for me when I wasn't there and it would be more convenient if she had a key.'
He paused for a moment as Davina increased her pace of walking, still wanting to get away from him, not to listen to what he was telling her.
'Then one evening I came home to find she'd moved in. I pointed out that she was wasting her time, there was no future in her staying with me because I wouldn't marry her. I was in love with you and always would be.' He sighed deeply. 'She said she didn't mind. She wasn't interested in marriage and she'd just stay with me for the time being because it suited her and she didn't have to pay any rent.'
'That wasn't true, of course,' Davina said shortly.
'Probably not. And maybe I should have sent her away. It's easy to have hindsight about these things… Anyway, twice in the next six months she told me she was pregnant, and each time it turned out to be untrue. So when she told me this time I ignored it. But then she told me something else, and that did change things.' Philip stopped, and Davina was held by the sudden seriousness of his tone. She, too, stood still and they faced each other on the moonlit sands.
'She told me you'd got married. She'd told me from the beginning that you'd gone abroad, that you had a travelling job as companion with some woman. But now she said you'd met someone on your travels and were married.' His voice rose harshly. 'Now do you understand why I asked her to marry me? To give the baby a name. I knew this time I'd lost you for good, that there would never be another chance for me. And then nothing mattered very much. I thought I might as well give Monica what she wanted so much. Then when I met your father and he was so pleased… much to my surprise… we named the day.'
'Monica told you I was abroad?' she whispered into the silence.
'Yes.'
'Is that why you never tried to find me?'
'Yes. If I'd known you were in London, even without your address I would have found you somehow, sometime. And I would have begged you on my knees to forgive me to give me another chance to make you happy, to come back to me. As I'm doing now,' he ended quietly.
Davina said nothing. The only sound in the night was the rhythmic crunching of their feet in the wet sand. She turned away from the beach to the road and headed for home. She was cold and tired. She didn't feel anything, neither elation at Philip's declaration of love nor happiness at the thought that she could run away with him now and marry him if she wanted to do that. There seemed to be no feelings left inside for anything or anyone. Too much had happened too quickly, and she wanted to go to sleep and forget it all. But she knew she would have to make at least one decision immediately. And she knew what it would have to be.
She had her own life, a job, a home and friends, but her sister had nothing. If Philip were to leave her, all she
would have would be his illegitimate child. And Davina herself would have a permanent breach with her family for the second time, and for good. However much she loved Philip, she couldn't wreak such havoc or cause so much unhappiness to the people she loved. She might regret it bitterly one day, but for the moment that would have to be the decision.
She turned to Philip at the corner of the road.
'From here on I go alone, Philip. What you've told me… well, it might have made a lot of difference once, but not now. Our love ended for me when you had an affair with my sister. That, I notice, you haven't denied. And perhaps, who knows, your marriage to each other might work out after all.' Her voice shook a little. 'There's no way that I'll break my engagement to go away with you, Philip. And that's quite final. Goodbye.'
She turned and walked away without looking back.
The house was dark and quiet when she let herself in, although there was still a light under the door of her parents' room and she could hear their quiet voices. She tiptoed to her own room and dropped into bed, only to find she was too tired to sleep. Tossing and turning, she slipped into a doze between waking and sleeping, dreaming of a home with Philip and herself while everyone looked on in happiness. Only her sister wasn't there and she couldn't find her.
It was early morning before she finally fell into a deep exhausted sleep.
'Davina, wake up! Why have you locked the door? Davina!' It was Monica. 'Will you please open up? I've got a cup of tea… come on!'
In one movement Davina was out of bed and unlocking the door.
'Sorry, love,' she said sleepily, 'I must have overslept.' She looked at the clock and glanced in dismay at her sister. 'It can't be ten o'clock! I should be bringing you tea this morning, not have you getting it for me.' She smiled quite naturally at her sister. 'Jake is going to be here in an hour, and I've done nothing to give Mum a hand. She must be furious!'
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