by Sara Craven
‘I was thinking I’d come on my own.’
‘Oh.’ Barbara was silent for a moment. ‘Are you quite sure about that?’
‘Yes, why not?’
‘Because, darling, Jake’s your husband,’ her mother said levelly. ‘He has a right to be consulted about your plans. And he may have some of his own for when you’re better. That honeymoon you never had, for instance.’
She patted Marin’s hand. ‘It used to be said that as soon as you recovered from a miscarriage you should try for another baby.’ She sighed. ‘But I expect the medical profession now takes a different view.’
‘Yes.’ Marin felt as if a leaden weight had settled in her chest. ‘I’m sure they do.’
And anyway I can’t—can’t…
‘So talk the Portugal idea over with Jake,’ Barbara went on. ‘And we’ll get things fixed up.’ She lowered her voice. ‘He arranged for me to fly over first class, you know. The ticket was waiting at the airport. Wasn’t that wonderful?’
Marin nodded. She said with an effort, ‘He is—very kind.’ But I can no longer live with that kindness. And somehow I have to tell him so.
He came slowly into the room and walked across to the bed, standing looking down at her, his mouth set, his eyes shadowed.
He said gravely, ‘How are you feeling?’
‘I think the stock response is “as well as can be expected.”’ She swallowed. ‘About the baby…I—I’m so sorry.’
‘Don’t say that,’ he said quietly. ‘You must never say that. Things happen, and for all kinds of reasons. And it’s no one’s fault.’
‘No—well.’ She looked away. ‘Thank you for bringing my mother over.’
‘It was no problem,’ he said. ‘But it wasn’t altogether altruistic, either.’ His tone was ironic. ‘I thought my presence here might be more acceptable if I didn’t come alone.’
Marin flushed. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Don’t play games, darling. The doctor’s obvious embarrassment when he made your excuses yesterday spoke volumes. You didn’t want to see me.’
‘I’m surprised you wanted to see me,’ she said in a low voice. She made herself look at him. ‘You may not believe it after the things Adela Mason said, but the baby was yours, Jake.’
His brows lifted. ‘Why would I doubt it?’
‘I saw the expression on your face when she was screaming her lies. You looked horrified.’
‘How was I supposed to look?’ he asked. ‘When my pregnant wife suddenly started losing our baby? All I thought about was getting you to hospital.’ He shrugged. ‘As for Diana and her unpleasant friend, if they told me April followed March I’d check a calendar.’
He paused. ‘Anyway, I already knew what had happened in France.’
‘How?’
‘I couldn’t figure how you’d ended up in London homeless and jobless, so I asked Lynne.’ He smiled faintly. ‘You’re hardly anyone’s idea of a home-wrecker. Besides,’ he added drily, ‘I knew what those two witches could never know—that you were a virgin when I made love to you.’
She said, ‘Oh,’ then looked down, aware that her face was burning.
There was a silence and his gaze took in the demure lines of the blue nightgown. ‘That colour suits you.’
‘As you once said, Lynne has very good taste.’ She played with the edge of the sheet. ‘Please will you make sure she’s reimbursed for all the lovely things she bought? She must have spent a small fortune.’
‘Yes,’ Jake said, after a pause. ‘I’ll see to it.’ He added, ‘I’m going to ask the doctor if I can take you home later today.’
She said quickly, ‘I’m not sure he’ll agree. I’m still getting headaches from my fall.’ She paused. ‘Besides, my mother has said that when I leave the clinic I can go back to Portugal with her, and I’d really like to do that. If you have no objection.’
‘I’m not likely to object to anything that will help you recover,’ he said slowly. ‘Of course you may go, if that’s what you wish.’
‘But that isn’t all.’ She took a deep breath. ‘When I come back, I want us to get a divorce.’
There was another more profound silence, then he said quietly, ‘What the hell are you talking about?’
‘About our lives,’ she said huskily. ‘The future. After all, we only got married for the baby’s sake. And if we hadn’t been in such a hurry, if we’d waited just a few more weeks, there’d have been no need for us to be married at all.
‘Everything that’s happened between us has been so wrong,’ she went on quickly. ‘But now we have a chance to put it right and begin again. Get our real lives back and make a fresh start. No more pretending for either of us.’
Jake turned away and walked over to the window. Staring down into the street outside, he said, ‘You seem to have thought this out very thoroughly.’
‘Our lives have changed completely. It’s been a good time to think,’ Marin said, keeping her voice steady. ‘You had no intention of sleeping with me that night. You said as much. And marrying me was simply the honourable thing to do.’ She paused. ‘Because you can’t ever have imagined the kind of empty relationship we’ve stumbled into.’
‘No.’ His attention was still fixed on the view from the window. ‘I grant you that.’
‘And one of these days you’ll meet someone you can’t resist,’ she went on swiftly. ‘And you’ll settle down and have a real wife—a real family. Give Harborne its next generation.’
‘It’s good of you to take such an interest in my welfare.’ He turned then, surveying her, hands on hips. ‘But what about you, Marin? I hope our mutual nightmare hasn’t put you off for ever. That you’ll marry again too.’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Of course. In time.’
‘Which leaves me little to say, except I won’t fight you over the divorce—and I wish you luck.’
‘Thank you,’ she said.
And thank God, she thought, that I did all my crying last night. That I can do this, say this to him, without breaking down and giving myself away.
‘However,’ Jake went on. ‘It might be better not to mention our plans to other people just yet. I don’t think they would understand the timing.’
She moved restively. ‘We could always say that my trip to Portugal gave us the chance to think. To admit we didn’t have a future.’
‘How very practical of you, darling.’ He smiled. ‘I can tell everyone that your absence made me realise how much I enjoyed being single.’
‘And I’ll say I decided that I can be happy again too.’ She smiled back resolutely. ‘So—sorted!’
‘Completely.’ He walked back to the bed. ‘Shall we spare each other the usual meaningless nonsense of remaining good friends?’
She didn’t look at him. ‘I don’t think we were ever that.’
‘Probably not,’ he conceded. ‘And the Chelsea flat is yours for the duration,’ he added abruptly. ‘Your mother is staying there, naturally, and I’ll make sure I’m around as little as possible until you both leave for Portugal.’
Her eyes flew to his face. ‘But you?’ she asked. ‘Where will you go?’
He said quite gently, ‘I don’t think that’s any of your business, sweetheart. Do you?’
And he went.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
‘JAKE TELEPHONED WHILE you were in the village.’ Barbara said as Marin walked into the kitchen. ‘Asking what flight you’d be catching tomorrow.’
Marin’s heart gave a sudden lurch. ‘Why should he want to know that?’ She put the shopping basket on the table and began to unpack it.
Her mother’s brows lifted. ‘So that he can meet you at the airport, I presume,’ she said with faint tartness. ‘It’s hardly surprising when he hasn’t seen you for over a month.’ She sighed. ‘Such a shame that he couldn’t get away and join you here after all.’
Marin took out a punnet of grapes, stared at it then put it back in the bag. The moment of truth seemed to have arrive
d, she thought wretchedly, and there was no point in prevaricating any longer.
She said, ‘Actually, it isn’t quite as simple as that. When I return to London, I’m getting a divorce.’
One of the pottery mugs Barbara was lifting down from a shelf crashed to the tiled floor and broke into a dozen pieces.
Mother and daughter looked at each other across the fragments, then Barbara said, ‘Have you gone quite mad? Is that bang on the head still affecting you?’
‘On the contrary,’ Marin returned. ‘I’ve made a perfectly sensible and rational decision to end a marriage that should never have begun and now has no reason to continue.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ Barbara said impatiently. ‘What in the world has common sense to do with being in love?’
Marin turned away. ‘But we’re not in love. We only pretended to make the whole thing seem—less sordid, I suppose.’
There was a silence. Then Barbara said quietly, ‘Are you trying to tell me that you went to bed—conceived a child—with a man you cared nothing for?’ She shook her head. ‘Oh, Marin, nothing would ever make me believe that.’
Marin bit her lip. ‘I’m sorry, but it happened. He was glamorous and exciting, and I—behaved badly. For which I have no possible excuse. I—I’m deeply ashamed.’
‘Ashamed of being human?’ Barbara asked. ‘Oh, darling.’
‘Ashamed of behaving like the worst kind of fool,’ Marin returned. ‘But at least I can put things right now, before any more damage is done.’
Barbara fetched a dustpan and began clearing up the broken china. She said gently, ‘Marin, you cannot end a marriage as if you were taking back a dress that didn’t fit. And what about Jake? How does he feel about this? Or haven’t you told him yet?’
‘On the contrary, we’re in complete agreement. There’s no question of any financial settlement,’ Marin added quickly. ‘He’s bound to offer, but I want nothing from him. Just—a clean break.’
She drew a determined breath. ‘I shall be going back to work at the agency, and I’ve taken my flat off the market, so I have a job and somewhere to live. That’s all I need.’
There was a silence, then Barbara said, ‘I noticed, of course, that you weren’t wearing that beautiful ruby he gave you, but I thought perhaps that you’d had to remove it—something to do with hospital regulations.’
Marin shook her head. ‘It’s an heirloom. Naturally, I’m going to return it.’
‘Quick and painless.’ Barbara’s voice was clipped as she emptied the contents of the dustpan into the bin. ‘And you really think you can just as easily eliminate the last few months—your husband—from your life as if they’d never existed and emerge unscathed? Dream on.’
Marin stared at her. ‘You speak as if you’re on Jake’s side.’
‘I’m on the side of “think again before you really mess up your life”,’ Barbara retorted vigorously.
‘But that’s exactly what would happen if I stayed with Jake.’ She paused. ‘I’m sorry. You liked him, didn’t you?’
‘Derek and I both did.’
Marin forced a smile. ‘And you thought he was attractive, didn’t you, Ma? Confess.’
‘Yes, I did, not being in my dotage. Who wouldn’t?’ Her mother paused. ‘But it’s not just his attraction, Marin. I’ve been married to two wonderful but very different men, but neither of them would have dreamed of going into a women’s department and buying me a complete set of clothing from the skin out.’
‘But Lynne bought those things,’ Marin protested.
‘She delivered them to the clinic,’ Barbara agreed. ‘But everything in those bags Jake chose and paid for. Including that heavenly blue nightdress and robe.’
‘Oh.’ Marin bit an already sore lip. ‘Then why did he let me think it was Lynne?’
Barbara took down two more beakers and filled them with coffee from the pot on the stove.
‘Well, darling, that hardly matters, does it?’ she said, her tone almost casual as she handed one to her daughter. ‘Not when you’re getting a divorce. So you’ll never know, now. Will you?’
She paused again. ‘And such a pity about that lovely ring,’ she added almost inconsequentially. ‘I read somewhere once that rubies are supposed to be a symbol of love, bringing contentment and peace. But not, it seems, for you, darling.’ She sighed. ‘What a shame. What a terrible shame.’
Marin was on edge throughout the flight the next day. For the first time ever, she realised she’d been almost glad to leave the villa and return to the UK.
The previous evening had been an awkward occasion. Derek had clearly been told about the state of her marriage and, trying to be tactful, had talked about everything else under the sun.
She’d excused herself early, saying she had to finish packing, but that hadn’t been strictly true. In reality, she’d needed to pick out something else to wear for the journey, because putting on the silky skirt and top in dark honey that Jake had chosen for her had become a total, heart-wrenching impossibility.
In fact, she could never wear them again, she thought, her throat closing as she remembered how the bias-cut skirt had rippled round her legs as she’d walked out of the clinic to the waiting car, and how the deep, rich colour, like captured sunshine, had warmed her skin and in some strange way made her feel less sad. Less hopeless.
And he’d bought it for her, together with that set of incredibly pretty lace-edged underwear, even managing to get her cup-size correct, she thought, feeding her resentment that he should be aware of so many intimate details about her when she didn’t even know where he purchased his elegant shirts.
But I never wanted to know, she told herself. Because it was all part of keeping my distance. Of turning him into a stranger so that I could avoid being hurt too badly. And how did I ever think it could possibly work?
Certainly not when she was unable to forget the way his hand had once cupped her breast as if that had been the sole purpose of its creation, or how his body had filled hers with such magnificent completion.
But for the sake of her own sanity she had to try, so she’d buried the honey silk at the bottom of her case and pulled out a taupe linen skirt and white tee-shirt instead.
At some point, she realised unhappily, she would have to arrange the collection of the rest of her clothes and personal things from Harborne. Or perhaps Elizabeth would have them sent to her.
Now, as she made her way through customs and out into the arrivals area, she felt cold with tension in case Jake really had come to meet her. But awaiting her instead was the same impersonal car and driver who’d delivered her to the airport the previous month.
As she settled into the luxury of the backseat, Marin tried hard to tell herself that the mixed feelings inside her were actually relief.
Besides, she told herself with resolution, very soon she’d be back in her own flat, and that was bound to help. Work was what she needed, and familiar routine. A chance to ‘move on.’
Lynne, nobly refraining from asking the obvious questions, had agreed to leave basics like milk, bread and coffee for her. Tomorrow she’d do a big shop, but tonight she’d order in—pizza, probably, from the place round the corner. It didn’t matter much.
She hadn’t eaten on the flight, so she should be hungry, but she wasn’t. Just chilled and bleak, as if she would never be warm again.
The flat felt chilly too, and somehow smaller. No doubt because she’d got too used to Chelsea and Harborne, she told herself scathingly as she dumped her case in the bedroom. Time to come down to earth.
Lynne, she discovered gratefully, had made up her bed and switched on the immersion heater, while the fridge had also been stocked with bacon, eggs and orange juice.
There was even a bowl of freesias on the coffee table, with a card saying ‘Welcome back, L and M.’
The only thing missing was the spare latchkey which Lynne had forgotten to leave behind. But in the broad scheme of things that hardly seemed important.
Marin looked round the living room, wondering whether to unpack and load the washing machine or dig out the folder with the takeaway menus, and found that neither option held much appeal.
It was easier just to stand, waiting for this, her real home—her only home—to welcome her back. To close round her and hug her. To stop her feeling so lost and alone.
But at the moment it seemed in no hurry to do so. The departing tenants had taken good care of it, but all the same it felt—almost alien. As if she no longer belonged there.
I’m just tired, she thought. Maybe I should concentrate on getting a good night’s sleep and pick up on my life tomorrow. Things will seem better then.
She was in the bedroom, kneeling to unlock her suitcase, when she heard her front door open and close quietly.
Lynne, she thought, probably returning that damned key. But please, please, let her not ask too many questions. Not this evening. Because I don’t think I can take it.
She called, ‘I’m in here.’
‘So I see,’ said Jake.
He stood in the doorway, immaculate as always in dark navy pinstripe, a leather traveling-bag in one hand and a suit-carrier slung over his shoulder. He was smiling faintly, and Marin felt her whole body clench in a physical response as instinctive as it was reluctant to the unwelcome force of his attraction.
His blue gaze scanned her. ‘You’re looking well. A tan suits you.’
‘I—I’m fine,’ she returned, scrambling to her feet. ‘How did you get in?’ Her voice was uneven, husky. A betrayal if ever there was one, she thought, cursing inwardly.
‘With this, of course.’ He held up the missing key. ‘Lynne gave it to me.’
‘Oh,’ she said, and took a deep, steadying breath. ‘Well, thank you, but it could easily have waited. Lynne shouldn’t have asked—shouldn’t have brought you out of your way—just for a key.’
He shrugged. ‘It’s not a problem.’
‘Well,’ Marin said tautly. ‘You mustn’t let me keep you. You’re obviously going somewhere.’
‘On the contrary,’ Jake returned. ‘I’ve just arrived.’