Her words struggled through tears. “Oh James. They will. I’ve been on the receiving end of judgmental looks and hurtful words more times than you realise. I know what happens. They’ll devalue you, because of me. I can’t let that happen.”
“You worry too much what other people think. How about you let me decide whether to take the chance?”
Her hands clenched at her sides. For his sake, she had to be strong, resist his hopeful optimism. “I’ve had to worry what other people think. I’m not worth what you’d lose. And I can’t risk you coming to hate me for that.”
The flat finality of the words made the distant church bells sound like a death knell. She shivered.
Her thin cotton sweater from the jumble sale did nothing to block the wind, but this coldness came from within. Even James’s arms around her couldn’t warm this. Inside her, her spirit felt dead, and a long way from God.
“You’re afraid.” His grip on her shoulders was firm, and his gaze held challenge and determination. “That’s what it is. Fear.”
“Yes, I am afraid. I’m afraid that your mother is right, I would drag you down. I’m afraid what we have will die, if you lose everything else you have, because of me.”
Her voice was a thread. Lifting her hands, she covered her face and rubbed her eyes. “Remember when I got stuck on those stairs at the bridge? I said how hard it was to overcome old beliefs and fears? You helped me there. But this is a lot bigger than walking up a flight of stairs. And this affects you as well, not just me.”
He shook his head. “Old beliefs are hard to overcome, sure. Especially when you’re trying to fight from your own strength. Where does God come in? If we have faith, nothing can harm us. He can defeat your fear, if you ask.”
Pain racked her at the thought of walking away once more.
But that wasn’t fear. That was sense. That was doing what was right for them both. If God meant them to be together, He wouldn’t have put so many barriers in their way. It God meant then to be together, surely He wouldn’t have shown her that perfect little house this morning. A house for one.
That was what God wanted for her. It had to be.
“No James. We have to accept we can’t be together. I love you. But being with you will harm you. I’m sure God has other plans for us both.”
An elaborate wrought iron gate stood open in front of them.
“Goodbye, James.” She stretched to kiss his cheek.
For the third and last time, she walked away from him.
At least, this time, she’d said goodbye.
Chapter 17
As Beth hurried through the gate and turned onto Bayswater Road, disappearing behind the hedge, James simply stood and watched her go.
Unlike last night, he had no urge to call out or chase her.
If she wanted to stay, she’d stay.
But if her love wasn’t strong enough to stop her running, the words meant nothing. No more than his American aunts signing birthday cards ‘love’.
He understood she was afraid. Afraid she wasn’t good enough, or that she wouldn’t fit in, or that somehow she’d hold him back in his career. Afraid she’d be bullied again, like she had before. She’d been hurt in the past, so her fear had a logical basis.
But these were all excuses if she loved him. He’d disproved each of her theories and she continued to hold on to false assumptions.
Today, he’d chased her. He’d laid himself on the line, and told her things he’d never told anyone else.
And once again, she’d rejected him.
Looked like he’d been right not contacting her after she ran the first time, and retreating to his research instead, if this was where chasing got him.
Science was safe. Science was reliable. If unpredictable things happened, they could be studied, analysed, understood. In science, everything had a logical cause.
Beth just proved that relationships weren’t for him.
Time to get his focus back.
He’d ignored the lab the last few days, it was time to get back to old habits. Back to what really counted.
The lab wasn’t far away, and the keys were always in his pocket.
Alone, focusing his mind. That was what he needed.
Forget Beth.
Ten minutes later, cloistered in his untidy office, he dived back into the mathematics of clumping. Searching for a formula to predict the patterns underlying the apparent randomness of life. Striving to reduce the messy complexity of the world into a mathematical equation, beautiful in its elegance and simplicity.
The patterns were there, in everything from the growth of cancer cells, to why terrorists attacked when and where they did, to stock market fluctuations. He just needed to find the mathematics underlying them.
Normally, work focused his mind, like prayer did. Almost a way of worshipping God. Recognising the repeated patterns in what looked chaotic made him see and appreciate the hand of our Creator in all things.
Tonight though, it didn’t happen.
Just when he wanted it most, his concentration deserted him. The patterns in his numbers didn’t emerge the way they normally did. For all his intent to forget her, thoughts of Beth distracted him.
He walked to the window and opened it, breathing deep. Cool air to clear his mind. But on Saturday night, date night, too many couples strolled along the busy street. Holding hands, hugging, kissing.
No help with his distraction.
Science was work for his mind, but God created humans with bodies and emotions too. And He said it wasn’t good for man to be alone.
Apart from that special summer with Beth, it felt to James as if he’d always been alone.
He wanted her. He made it obvious he chose her. And he couldn’t have her unless she chose to come to him.
His gut churned with pent up emotion as he paced his office, hands clenched, shoulders tight.
What was wrong with him? Frustrated, he closed his eyes and slammed his fists down on the windowsill.
Help me, Lord.
A run, that’s what he needed.
Exercise, burning off the hormones and neurotransmitters. Once their disruptive effect was out of his system, he’d get his usual single-minded focus back.
Soon, his feet pounded the pavement in a steady rhythm. He emptied his mind of everything but the sound and feel of his steps. Lactic acid heated his leg muscles, and the pace of his breathing accelerated.
Pushing his body harder, he ran through Regents Park before looping the three mile stretch and heading for the apartment. Riding the burn, seeking the endorphin release. The blessing of stress relief. Every step and every breath and every heartbeat became a prayer.
By the time he reached the huge mansion block, the tension knotting his muscles had vanished. Somehow, he felt a kind of peace over what had happened with Beth.
He’d longed to see her again. God had given him that, and the chance to say goodbye. For now, he needed to let those memories go.
Sweaty, tired, ready for a shower, he took the stairs two at a time, unlocked the apartment door, and went to grab a drink of water. He stopped dead at the kitchen door.
His mother stood in front of the open refrigerator, examining its meagre contents with a wrinkled nose.
Tight strain pinged back into his frame.
“Mother, what are you doing here?” Her critical presence was the last thing he needed here, now.
Sure, she owned the apartment, she owned the entire building and every apartment in it. Standard operating procedure had always been that he stayed in an empty one when he was in the UK. But she’d never visited before.
He eyed her narrowly. With Mother, there was always an agenda.
“I arranged for decorators to work at the Mayfair house while I was in The Gambia. I’m back sooner than planned, and you know I loathe the smell of paint. None of my other properties are empty.”
She picked up a half-full bottle of mineral water and shook it to check for fizz. “Flat. And no food. What do you expect
me to eat?” Her tone suggested she expected him to take care of that little problem.
He rolled his eyes. As usual, she assumed that the world revolved around her. It wouldn’t occur to her to phone ahead, or to consider whether this was convenient for him.
He took the water bottle from her hands, opened it, and drank a swig straight from the bottle.
So she’d disapprove. She’d disapproved all the many, many times he’d tried to please her, too.
Perhaps he needed to stop trying.
He couldn’t live his life in an attempt to make his mother love him, any more than he could Beth.
With a disconcerting feeling of everything jumping sideways like a tectonic shift, he knew their relationship had changed forever.
“If I’d known you were coming, I would have arranged for caterers.” He didn’t try too hard to keep the caustic edge from his words. “I planned to order in pizza. You’re welcome to share.”
She opened the cupboard doors one by one. Whether she was looking for something specific or just being nosy, he wasn’t sure. “Pizza?” If he’d told her straw was on the menu for dinner she wouldn’t have sounded more horrified. “I suppose you think I should have moved into a hotel.”
He laughed, a touch bitterly. “If you need room service, yes. But if pizza isn’t good enough for you, the French bistro around the corner delivers. It is your apartment. You can come here whenever you want.”
Certainty swept him as he made a decision, one he knew had the ring of rightness.
The three bedroom, three bathroom apartment was more than big enough for both of them. But it was time he moved out.
Time he manned up too, and stopped trying to please her.
“Mother, I’m going back to my lab tonight, anyway. I’m in the middle of working on something. I’ll have a shower, pack a bag, then leave. I can sleep on the couch there. You’ll have the apartment to yourself.”
Her face contorted. “Your work.” Venom dripped from her voice. “You know what I think about that. About as much as I think about Bess or Beth or whatever her name is. Have you been seeing her all this time?”
So that was what her visit was all about. Beth.
Deliberately, asking God for patience, he uncurled the fists his hands had formed, and counted to ten. Three wasn’t enough to stop him exploding. “Her name is Beth. And it’s none of your business if we’ve been dating, or not.”
“I know you’re in love with her. I saw how you were with her last night.” She sniffed, and her eyes narrowed. “Our country housekeeper’s niece. A nobody from nowhere.”
“Her background might be a concern to you, but it isn’t to me.” He forced his breathing to stay even, despite the anger clenching his gut. “If I had my way, I’d marry her.”
Tight-lipped, his mother flushed, stepped nearer, and jabbed a finger toward him. “I won’t have it. Get involved with her, and I’ll disinherit you.”
James knew it was an empty threat. She’d never see her portion of the Tetherton property go to the other branch of the family. Just another way to control him.
But even if she meant it, he didn’t mind.
He took another gulp of water to calm himself before answering, setting the bottle down with a careful click instead of the thump he was tempted to.
“You must do what you think is right. But I wish you’d understand. I don’t want your property. I can earn my own living. I’d rather have Beth.”
“You can’t do that.” She almost spat the words in his face.
God, help me. I’ve spent thirty years trying and failing to please her. I give up.
“No, unfortunately I can’t. Beth won’t date me. She doesn’t think she’s good enough for me. Because people like you have told her so, too many times.”
Triumph lit her eyes and her smug satisfied smile. “I’m glad the girl has that much sense, at least. Even if you don’t.”
Forcing down a tidal wave of anger and grief, he shook his head and paced to the door, turning to face her.
“When you’re ready to accept me as I am and stop your attempts to control me, I’ll be willing to see you again. Until then, I’d prefer not to. I’m going to take that shower now, then leave.”
Before she tried to argue, he walked out of the room.
Under a long shower, he scrubbed his hair and let the running water wash the dirt of the conversation from him. He realised something, something big. He’d spent his life scratching for crumbs of affection, pretending he didn’t care.
He did care.
So he’d kept trying to do it, under his own human power.
But he’d never surrendered his relationships fully to God before, never given Him Lordship over that part of his life. No wonder he’d failed.
Lord, I've done the best I can, and messed up. It's over to You now. With my mother. With Beth. You take the controls. I don’t have any better plan.
After his shower, he threw a few essentials into a bag and walked back into the living room. If his mother gave him any more grief, he’d stay firm. It was well past time someone set limits with her.
Sitting on the big sofa, she looked small and crumpled and older than her sixty-two years. All her self-assurance and bluster seemed to have fled.
As he came in the room, she looked up, and something he’d never seen there before glimmered in her eyes.
Remorse.
“You truly love this girl, don’t you? Enough to give up everything for her.” Instead of her usual criticism, her voice held a vulnerable quality that touched him.
He put down the overnight bag he carried, and nodded.
“Yes. I do love her.” Pointless though it was, he did. Beth’s refusal didn’t change that.
“Then keep trying to win her. I’m sorry I said what I did.” Her chest rose and fell, and her hands convulsed in her lap. “While you were out of the room, I realised how empty my life would be if I lost you. I prayed, and I realised a few things. I’ve been a terrible mother, you don’t need to tell me that.”
Open mouthed, shaken with surprise and shock, James sat in the seat opposite her. His legs suddenly turned to liquid. If he’d come out of his bedroom and found she’d transformed into an alien he wouldn’t be more astonished.
He’d suspect this was another attempt to manipulate him, except there was an honesty about her that couldn’t be denied. “Mother?”
“When I was a girl, I fell in love with someone.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “My father stopped it. Money, not love, was what he valued. He made me marry your father instead. Resentment made me this bitter and twisted caricature of the woman I could have been.”
She reached a shaking hand out to him, and her eyes held genuine entreaty.
“I have no idea who I am any more. I know I need to change, though it won’t be easy. Can you forgive me? Will you give me the chance to be a better mother?”
The hurt of all the years of rejection and abandonment tensed his muscles, ready to pick up his bag and walk out that door and never look back. He stood.
“Please?” she said, looking up at him.
The way her voice broke on the word broke something in him too. He dropped to his knees beside her, head bowed, and felt her hand lay softly on his hair. The first time she’d touched him beyond a hand shake, that he could remember.
Blessed forgiveness filled his heart, gentle and sweet.
“Don’t give up on love too soon,” his mother said. “If you love Beth, don’t let her go. There is always hope for renewal. Haven’t I just learned that, after all these years?”
He raised his head. Sureness and a new determination firmed his spine.
Like his mother, Beth needed to choose love for herself. He couldn’t force her to. Ten years ago, waiting for her to come back to him had been the wrong choice, driven by fear. Now, it wasn’t. He’d chased her once. Now it was her turn.
“I’m not giving up. But if Beth wants me, she’ll have to come to me this time.”
&
nbsp; Chapter 18
Beth couldn’t believe her own stupidity.
Last night, God gave her the choice between fear or love, and fear won.
She’d thought she wanted closure, and a safe isolated single life in the little house she’d seen yesterday.
Wrong. She wanted love, but didn’t know how to choose any different.
So once again, she’d bolted from James. She wouldn’t be given a third chance with him.
Worse, prayer seemed impossible.
If it wasn’t her Sunday shift at work, she’d be in church, hoping to reconnect with God again.
God felt so far away it hurt.
Working after an almost sleepless night wasn’t going to be much fun. Her red rimmed eyes and pasty face showed far too clearly that things hadn’t gone well the night before.
“Beth?” asked Anita, approaching her counter.
Putting down her polishing cloth, Beth braced herself.
Anita frowned and shook her head. “Again? What is it with you two? Maybe I need to give up matchmaking. I’ve never seen a couple more meant for each other, yet after every date I set up for you, you come in looking a wreck.”
A comforting touch on her hand offset the words.
“C’mon girlfriend, spill. What’s the problem?”
Beth let a breath go in a heavy sigh, and tucked her chin toward her chest. Shame burned in her throat.
Anita knew about James of course, they’d discussed their relationships, or lack of, many times. But she’d never said more than that another girl broke them up.
Revealing her background and her deep sense of not being good enough, of not belonging anywhere, would hurt too much. Cheerful and self-confident Anita wouldn’t understand.
Tears prickled her eyes, and she swallowed hard.
“I’ve been told too many times in no uncertain terms that I’m not the right sort of girl for him. Just a former housemaid from the wrong side of the tracks.” Waving her cleaning cloth, her smile felt more like a grimace. “Look at me, still dusting. At least here I don’t have to mop the floors.”
Anita frowned, tipping her head to one side. “I don’t get it. Did James say that?” She waved both hands wide in a gesture of dismissal. “In that case, I made a big mistake trying to get you guys together and I’m truly sorry. Ditch the jerk. You deserve better.”
Love In Store Books 1-3: Collection of three sweet and clean Christian romances with a London setting: The Wedding List, Believe in Me, & A Model Bride Page 11