His Reluctant Cinderella

by Jessica Gilmore

  ‘Well,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘Natasha always goes to Majorca and that does look epic but I really want to go to Florida and go on all the roller coasters.’

  She wanted to what? Raff didn’t think he was ever going to set foot on a roller coaster again. ‘They have alligators in Florida,’ he said.

  ‘Awesome! Have you seen one?’

  ‘Yep, and crocodiles too. Big nasty ones in Africa.’

  ‘You’ve been to Africa?’ Her eyes were big with excitement. ‘Did you see elephants and lions and zebras?’

  ‘All of them. There’s nothing like lying in a tent and listening to a lion roar somewhere in the distance.’ He lowered his voice. ‘It makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.’

  ‘Ooh.’ She sounded envious. ‘Have you been to Australia?’

  ‘Actually, no.’

  ‘I was born there,’ she said proudly.

  ‘So you’ve been somewhere I haven’t been.’

  There was another long pause. ‘Raff?’

  ‘Mmm?’

  ‘I’m scared.’

  ‘Look at me.’ Raff wiped all tension off his face and smiled reassuringly at her. ‘Give me your hand.’ Her hand was so small it looked lost in his; he clasped it tightly, giving her a reassuring squeeze. ‘I promise you, Summer, we’ll be absolutely fine. I am going to be with you the whole time, okay?’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Now, where else do you want to go? I’ve never seen the Northern Lights so that’s on my list.’ He felt the small hand relax and saw a little colour come back into her cheeks. She was going to be fine; he just hoped that rescue wasn’t too far away.

  If this was just a tiny proportion of the weight of responsibility Clara carried then no wonder she didn’t want her daughter to go anywhere or do anything. If he ever became a parent then he would build a house lined with cotton wool and keep his children confined within. How did anybody do it? Carry that burden? No wonder his mother had run the second she had been left solely responsible for Polly and him.

  For the first time Raff felt a glimmering of empathy for his sweet, childlike but ultimately weak mother. Pampered, cossetted her whole life, she had been utterly unprepared for life as a single mother. So she had run away; as he had, as Polly had. It must be in the genes.

  But they had been so young, even younger than Summer here, and they had put all their faith and trust in her. She had let them down, badly. He couldn’t imagine anything that would induce Clara to abandon Summer—or anything that would induce him to abandon his children if he was ever lucky enough to have any.

  Children had never been in his life plan. But lying here, looking up at the stars, cradling a small trusting hand and listening to Summer describe her perfect holiday villa, they suddenly didn’t seem like such a terrible idea after all.

  * * *

  ‘Miss.’ One voice seemed more insistent than the rest and Clara forced herself to look up, to try and focus. ‘Drink this.’

  Tea. Hot, milky and full of sugar, utterly disgusting, but she managed a few sips and the room came back into focus. Clara pushed the still-full mug away but the man pushed it back. ‘Drink it up, all of it,’ he said and, like a child, she obeyed.

  He didn’t say another word, not until the mug was half empty. ‘Your daughter is on Typhoon?’

  ‘I think so.’ She sounded more like herself. ‘But I wasn’t there. I don’t know if she got on that train but she was supposed to meet me here.’ Clara looked around. There were a few people staring at her curiously, some more openly than others; she focused on a couple of white-faced groups, possibly also worrying about trapped friends and relatives. ‘She’s only ten.’

  ‘My name is Steve and I’m a customer service manager here. If you feel up to walking then you could accompany me to the site. The camera automatically photos them as the carriage goes horizontal, for souvenir photos, you know? If your daughter is on there then you’ll be able to identify her.’

  ‘Where else could she be?’

  ‘We evacuated the area so she may just be waiting for you at the other side,’ Steve said calmly. ‘Is she on her own?’

  Clara shook her head. ‘No, she’s with my friend, but his phone is here. I was watching their stuff...’ Her voice faltered. Watching their coats, phones, but not them.

  She should have been there.

  ‘Okay, then, if you’re able to walk, let’s go.’ Clara nodded numbly. But she didn’t need to identify any photos. She knew that Summer was stuck on top of the narrow metal loop in the sky.

  The next half-hour was the longest of Clara’s life. She managed to phone her parents, relieved when they promised to be there as soon as possible. At least Summer wasn’t on her own. Raff would be great in a crisis like this; calm, probably finding ways to make the whole thing a big adventure.

  He’d keep her daughter safe.

  The waiting friends and families had all been asked to wait in the café where tea, coffee and biscuits were on constant supply.

  ‘They have come to a stop in the worst possible place,’ Steve explained to the assembled group as they settled in. A few were in tears, a couple more red-faced and angry, demanding they be listened to and threatening lawsuits, but most, like Clara, seemed dazed. ‘It’s one of the highest points of the ride and there’s no infrastructure nearby we can reach them from. Nor can we safely restart the ride. But we do plan for these worst-case scenarios and help is on the way. We’ve ascertained that no one is injured...’ a relieved murmur broke out at his words ‘...and although they’re not comfortable they’re steady and despite appearances they are safe. Specialist rescue workers are bringing in cranes and ropes and we hope to begin freeing them within the hour.’

  Clara sank into a chair, her hands cradling one in an endless loop of hot teas people kept putting in front of her. She didn’t drink any of them, just held them, letting the warmth travel through her numbness, keeping her anchored in the present, keeping away her fears until she finally heard the news the group had been praying for: the first passenger had been safely brought back down to the ground. The rescue mission was working.

  * * *

  ‘Mummy!’

  At last, at last. Clara was on her feet, pulling Summer close as if she could absorb her daughter back into her, inhaling her in. ‘Hi, Sunshine.’ Her voice was shaky and she tried to control it. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever been happier to see you.’

  She stood back a little, anxiously checking her daughter over. There were no signs of strain or tears on Summer’s face. In fact, she looked as if she had just strolled over from the carousel next ride over.

  ‘Did you know Raff has been in a helicopter and one of those tiny planes?’ Summer tucked herself back under Clara’s arm, encircling her waist with her arms and squeezing in tight. ‘He’s heard lions at night and hyenas. Isn’t that the coolest?’

  ‘Totally. Are you okay, Sum? Was it scary?’

  ‘A little,’ her daughter confessed. ‘But Raff made it all okay. He promised we’d be all right and we were. Wait till they hear about this at school. Natasha is going to be epically jealous.’

  ‘Is she all right?’

  Clara’s heart missed a beat at the low, concerned voice.

  ‘They took her off first. I just wanted to make sure she was okay.’

  ‘Raff!’ Summer left her mother’s side and threw herself at the tall, broad man. He stood, awkward for a moment, before wrapping his arms around her and cuddling her back.

  A lump formed in Clara’s throat, making it hard to speak. This was what Summer should have had, had never had.

  ‘If I ever get stuck on a roller coaster again I want to be stuck with you,’ Raff told her daughter seriously. ‘You were by far the best-behaved person up there.’

  ‘Some of them were making the
most awful racket,’ Summer said, hanging onto Raff’s arm. ‘As if crying was going to make it better.’

  ‘That’s why I’m so glad you were there to cheer me up.’

  Summer turned to Clara, her face lit up with excitement. ‘Can we still go to dinner, Mummy, please? I’m totally okay.’

  Clara swallowed. ‘Sorry, honey.’ There, that was normal, wasn’t it? Not a quiver in her voice. ‘Granny and Grandpa are just through there waiting to take you home. But I think they mentioned something about fish and chips...’

  ‘I wanted to stay with you and Raff.’

  ‘I’m just going to drive Raff home and then I’ll be straight there. Come on, sweetie.’

  * * *

  She hadn’t looked at him. Not properly. Raff just stood there as Summer was peeled off him and delivered to her grandparents, still protesting that she was okay and wanted to go out for dinner.

  He wanted to placate her, promise her that it would happen some other time. But he wasn’t sure about that at all.

  ‘I’m sorry about that.’ Clara still wasn’t looking at him directly. ‘I thought she’d be better off going straight back.’

  ‘I could have driven the van back, if you wanted to go with Summer.’

  She paused. ‘I wasn’t sure if you’d be okay to drive. Besides, I thought we should talk.’

  Here it came. Raff was suddenly very tired. There had been a few moments up there when he had been concerned, worried that they’d be trapped for several hours, that the actual rescue process would be dangerous. The responsibility had been heavy.

  It was funny; he bore a huge amount of responsibility nearly every day of his life. He had to keep all kinds of facilities going; literally hundreds of lives depended on him. He took that responsibility very seriously, lived for it. But it was nothing compared to the fear he had felt when Clara’s daughter was in such terrible danger and there was nothing he could do but sit there, talk to her and hold her hand.

  He ran a hand through his hair, aware just how much the accident had taken out of him. All he wanted to do at this point was have a beer, a shower and collapse into his bed, but there was no point putting this off.

  Clara would say what she had to say; she had every right to. He had messed up.

  They walked away from the building, their steps in harmony but several inches apart, not one centimetre of them touching.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said after a while, not able to bear the silence any longer. ‘You must have been terrified.’

  Clara stopped and stood stock still for a long, long moment. Raff could see how unnaturally rigid her shoulders were, the lack of colour in her lips. The defeated look in her eyes.

  ‘You had no right.’ Her voice was trembling; he didn’t know if she was holding back tears or filled with anger. He feared it was both.

  Her throat was burning with the effort of keeping the tears held back. Again. For goodness’ sake, she had barely cried in years and now she was giving Niobe a run for her watery money.

  ‘You had no right,’ she tried again. ‘Inviting us here in front of Summer so I had no choice but to agree, offering to accompany her on the ride. I know I could have said no.’ She could hear the volume of her voice rising and took a deep breath. ‘I could have but you put me in a really difficult position. I’ve hardly been around lately, thanks to you. The last thing I wanted to be was a killjoy mother as well as an absent one!’

  She expected him to defend himself, to get angry back. Instead he stood, facing her, palms outstretched. ‘You’re right. I was completely out of line.’

  If he thought being calm and reasonable was going to calm her down he was in for a big shock. ‘She could have been killed up there!’ The words were torn out of her, raw and heartfelt. ‘Do you know how it feels to see the one person, the one person you would gladly die for, stuck miles up in the sky and know you are utterly, utterly helpless? Of course you don’t!’ Was that her? So cold and bitter. ‘The only person you care for is yourself.’

  Raff’s face whitened. ‘I care about you.’

  She didn’t want to hear it. ‘Yes, one day at a time.’ Was that why she was so angry? They hadn’t finished the conversation in her office; Summer had interrupted them before it had been resolved. No, she pushed the uncomfortable thought far out of her mind. It had nothing to do with Raff and his piecemeal approach to relationships; this was all about her daughter.

  ‘She could have died,’ she repeated and this time the words really hit home. ‘She could have fallen and I wasn’t there, Raff. I wasn’t there.’

  ‘No, you weren’t, but I was.’ He ran a hand down her arm, looking intently into her eyes and just like that the anger dissipated. Oh, how she wanted to step forward, lean into him and let him hold her. But she stood firm. ‘She wasn’t alone. And, Clara? Your daughter was amazing. She’s brave and interesting and that is down to you. You are a wonderful mother.’

  He was saying all the right things and it would be so, so easy to put this behind her, behind them, and let him into her life properly, into Summer’s life. Because this was what Summer wanted, what she deserved. Someone who appreciated just how special she was, someone who made her feel safe.

  This was what Clara needed.

  But Raff wasn’t that man as much as she desperately wanted him to be. He was leaving, soon. And both she and Summer deserved better than a part-time Prince Charming.

  ‘Come on.’ She resumed walking, relieved to see the van close by. ‘I’ll drive you home.’

  Raff didn’t even try and argue, just slid across to the passenger seat as Clara opened the door and settled herself at the wheel. Neither of them spoke during the short drive back to Hopeford. It was no time at all until Clara drew up in front of the pretty cottage and killed the engine—and Raff still had no idea what to say, how to break the deathly silence.

  He had always been able to rely on his charm in the past. Now it wasn’t enough, not by miles.

  ‘I know people think I keep her too close.’ The words made him jump, unexpected in the long silence. ‘But they have no idea what she and I have been through. When I first came back I was so young, other mothers used to think I was her au pair or big sister. I always had to do everything better to prove I was as good as they were.’

  ‘Of course you were.’ He could see her. Young, independent, tilting her head coolly as she walked past the whispers, the sneers, the judgement. ‘Better.’

  ‘I have to put her first,’ she said. ‘Always.’

  ‘Clara.’ He reached over and took her cold hand. ‘I know today was horrible. I can’t imagine what you went through. But it doesn’t have to change anything.’

  She was immobile under his touch, the green cat’s eyes remote, shuttered. ‘You’re leaving,’ she said. ‘There isn’t a future for us, so what’s the point?’

  Fun? Living for today? Attraction? Raff searched through his usual stock of reasons and arguments and found them wanting.

  ‘I think we could be good together.’

  ‘When you’re in town, when you can fit us in? I know how amazing your job is, Raff. I think it’s great, that you are a very giving person. I really do. But I can’t be second best. And nor can Summer. And I don’t think you can give us what we need.’

  Ouch. Words like arrows, well aimed and sharp. Raff looked at her and could see no indecision; her eyes were steady, the colour of a stormy sea. ‘She deserves better than that, Raff. I deserve better. She needs a father figure, someone she can rely on. I know you were great with her up there and I am so grateful but I can’t have you in her life. I can’t have you in my life.’

  Raff wanted to reassure her but what could he say? He couldn’t offer her more, couldn’t be more. His life was elsewhere; his calling was elsewhere. She was right. She deserved so much more than an emotionally stilted runaway co
uld offer her.

  ‘You do,’ he said, aware how harsh his voice sounded. He swallowed, shocked at the size of the lump in his throat. ‘You both do. I hope you find someone who appreciates just how amazing you are.’

  ‘You didn’t promise me anything,’ she said, looking down at her hands, twisting the bangle round and round her slender wrist. ‘You were always very clear what this was and I thought I knew what I was doing. I guess somewhere along the way the lines blurred for me. That was stupid of me.’ She looked up at him, held his gaze. ‘But things are clear now. You’re a good man, Raff Rafferty. I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for.’

  She reached across and opened his door. Her intention was clear. Raff searched for something to say but came up with nothing. All he could do was press a kiss to her soft cheek and climb out of the van and watch as she drove away into the deepening twilight, leaving Raff alone with only the birds’ evensong for company.

  He was free just the way he liked it. Free of family obligations, free of Rafferty’s, free of all ties. It was what he had always wanted.

  It should feel so good. So why did he feel as if he had suddenly lost everything?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘WHAT YOU NEED to do,’ Maddie said, ‘is get back on the horse.’

  ‘I need to what?’ Clara stared at her cousin suspiciously.

  ‘Get back on the horse. So you fell. Who can blame you? That man was sex on a stick. I would have quite liked to have fallen myself, if I wasn’t with Ollie,’ Maddie finished, a little unconvincingly, Clara thought. ‘And as a starter to get you back into the swing of things he was perfect. But he was never the main course and you know it, so don’t let him make you lose your appetite.’ She sat back on the sofa, took a sip of her wine and beamed at Clara.

  Clara tried to disentangle Maddie’s mix of metaphors and gave up. ‘I still don’t know what to do about this.’ She held up the cheque that had arrived with that morning’s post. ‘It’s twice the amount I was expecting.’

  ‘Which is terrible because?’

  Clara gave her a level look. ‘Because I was sleeping with him.’