‘Where do you work?’
‘A lawyer’s office. It’s really interesting. Eventually I thought I could train and get some qualifications.’
‘Be a lawyer, you mean?’
‘Yes. Not just yet. In five or six years, when the children are more independent. For the moment I just do part-time secretarial work to get the feel of it. I took a computer course and my boss says I’m the best in the office.’
‘How long will your training take?’
‘About four years to pass all the exams. I reckon I’ll be qualified about ten years from now.’
He was silent for so long that Corinne thought he was about to fight her on this, and braced herself to stand up to him. She didn’t want to fight, but nor was she going to yield.
But all he said was, ‘You must be brilliant if you did that computer course so quickly.’
‘I started doing it six months ago. I used the computer you bought for Bobby.’
‘Six months? While we were together?’
‘Uh-huh!’
It was painful, like discovering that she’d had a secret life—which, in a way, he supposed she had.
‘And you made sure you didn’t tell me?’
‘No, Alex, I didn’t “make sure” of not telling you. I’d gladly have told you if you’d shown any interest, or even been there. But you were such an absentee that I could have got away with murder. I could have had a dozen lovers and you’d never have suspected.’
‘Very funny.’
‘Don’t glare at me. Many men who live for their work secretly know that their wives are getting up to every kind of mischief behind their backs. But my furtive trysts were with a computer. My “clandestine mail” came from a correspondence course, and you never surprised my guilty secret because it never occurred to you that I was interesting enough to have one.
‘Well, I had, and I passed with very high marks. My boss is very glad to have me around. They’ve just had a load of state-of-the-art machines delivered and I’m the only one who knows what to do with them. I can’t tell you how—’ She stopped suddenly.
‘How proud that made you?’ he suggested.
‘No, how sad it made me. There was nobody to tell.’
He nodded. ‘And you need someone to tell your triumphs to or they don’t amount to much. I always told things to you. Nobody else’s opinion ever mattered as much as yours.’
‘I’d have loved to tell you, but I knew it would look very trivial to the boss of Mead Consolidated.’
After a moment he asked, ‘Does Jimmy know?’
‘Only since he came here last week.’
‘And I suppose he’s rooting for you?’
‘Yes, he thinks it’s great.’
Alex was silent. He was afraid to ask any more about Jimmy. Instead he said, ‘You’ve got the rest of your life pretty well mapped out, haven’t you?’
‘It’s good to have a goal.’
‘Yes, I see that. Ten years—heck! I don’t know anyone who plans that far ahead.’
‘I must. I’m thirty already. I have to make the most of my time.’
‘Where do I come into your plans?’
‘You’re still the children’s father.’
‘I’m still your husband, and I want to go on being your husband.’
‘Alex, nothing’s going to change. You are as you are. What’s the point of saying all this? I tried to explain when we broke up, and you weren’t listening then, either.’
Alex sighed. ‘Yes, I was. I know it didn’t seem like it, but I heard. You were saying you were better off without me.’
Dumbly she shook her head. It was less a denial than an attempt to fend off confusion.
‘I never said that,’ she said at last. ‘And I never, never will. Not with all the things I remember.’
‘What do you remember?’ he asked gruffly.
‘You, as you were when I met you,’ she said wistfully. ‘You were wonderful—the most wonderful, generous, loving man in the world.’
Her words hurt him unbearably. ‘I’m still the same—’ he pointed to himself ‘—in here.’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ she said sadly. ‘It’s a long time since I’ve known what was happening in there.’
‘Nothing’s changed. Not towards you. Tell me it’s the same with you. Or can’t you say it?’ His voice was ragged.
‘Yes.’ She sighed. ‘I can say it. But we’re not youngsters now, and it’s not enough.’
‘Are you happy?’ he asked abruptly.
‘I don’t know,’ she said slowly. ‘I’m not sure it really matters.’
He realised that she had altered in some indefinable way. There was a calm about her now, as though she had settled something that had long been troubling her.
‘Alex,’ she said suddenly, ‘will you tell me something honestly?’
‘Fire away.’
‘But I mean honestly. No polite lies. No gilding the lily. The unvarnished truth.’
‘All right.’
‘Why did you arrive here early and stay late?’
He hesitated, knowing that he was going to confirm her worst suspicions. Yet she’d asked for honesty and he could give her no less.
‘Something fell through,’ he said reluctantly. ‘Craddock set up a party in the Caribbean, to settle the contract. Then he got ill.’
She faced him. ‘And if he hadn’t got ill?’
It was the question that he’d dreaded, but he said, ‘Then I wouldn’t have come at all.’
She didn’t seem to react, only nodded slightly, as though something had been confirmed.
It made him burst out, ‘But I did come, and I found myself talking to my son, who didn’t know it was me. And I found out a lot of things I didn’t know before. Maybe it’s my fault that I didn’t, but I know them now. It makes everything different.’
‘Between you and the children. Not between you and me.’
‘But it can if we let it. Corinne, come home. I want to try again. Don’t you want that too, in your heart?’
‘I can’t come back to that soulless place, Alex. I hated it. My home is here.’
‘Then I’ll come here.’
‘Here? You mean move into where I’m living now?’
‘It doesn’t matter as long as we’re together. If we stay here you’ll still have your job and—’
‘Wait, Alex, please. I know you when you’ve set your heart on something. You go bull-headed for it without thinking it through. How long would it be before things went wrong again? I know you’ve understood things these last few days, but that isn’t the complete answer you seem to think.’
‘But if we still love each other—’
‘I do still love you, but—’
‘But you think I’m beyond redemption,’ he said wryly.
‘You don’t need redemption. I think you might need a different kind of wife—one who can enjoy the entertaining you want, and wear glamorous clothes, and be a credit to you.’
‘To blazes with that!’ he said impatiently. ‘None of that stuff matters. I want you, and the children. My God!’ He was growing angry. ‘You’ve not only mapped out your own life but mine too. I’m headed for a trophy wife, am I? You’d better tell me her name now, because I’m sure you’ve picked her out.’
‘Calm down!’
‘I’m damned if I will! What do you suggest—a luscious little blonde with a cleavage, or a busty brunette who’ll marry me for my gold card? Do you think I want anyone like that after being married to you, or is that all you think I’m worth?’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said in anguish. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you.’
He didn’t say any more. But he took her hand and laid it against his cheek, closing his eyes.
‘Alex—’
‘Hush,’ he said. ‘Don’t say anything.’
She nodded and lifted her other hand to touch his face gently.
‘There won’t be anyone,’ he said in a voice that was both fierce and qu
iet. ‘It’s just you. Nobody else. Sometimes I wish that wasn’t true. Hang it, Corinne, I’d like to be able to forget you and pass on to something new as easily as you’ve done. But I can’t. If that’s inconvenient, I’m sorry, but I always was an awkward cuss, and I haven’t changed in that way either.’
She wanted to tell him that it was all an illusion. She hadn’t passed on to something new because he still haunted her and always would. But those would be dangerous words to say to him.
Suddenly he seemed to pull himself together.
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘It’s time we got back to work. There’s a lot still on that list.’
He rose abruptly, leaving her no choice but to do the same. The subject was closed, she thought. He had simply put it behind him.
It was two hours before they had completed the list and were able to start the journey home. By that time the temperature had fallen sharply and Corinne drove in silence, concentrating on the road, which had become treacherous.
When they left the town and reached the country stretch they slowed.
‘It looks like it snowed here in the last half-hour,’ he said, ‘and there hasn’t been much traffic, so it’s probably icy—’
The words were barely out of his mouth when the car began to make choking noises.
‘What’s that?’ Alex asked.
‘Nothing,’ she said quickly. ‘It’s done it before. It doesn’t mean anything. It’ll go back to normal in a moment.’
But instead of going back to normal the vehicle choked some more, slowed, and then quietly died in the middle of the road.
‘Oh, heck!’ she said wretchedly. ‘Is anything coming?’
‘No, but let’s get this to the side before anything does.’
Together they set their shoulders to the rear and pushed the car until it glided on to the grass verge, where it settled, out of danger but totally useless.
Alex pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and called the rescue service. As he’d expected, he was at the end of a long line.
‘An hour, minimum,’ he groaned as he hung up.
‘We have to stay here for an hour?’ she asked, horrified.
‘Not necessarily here. If we take a walk through those trees I think there are some buildings on the other side. There might be a pub where we could get a sandwich.’
‘Can I borrow your phone?’
She called home and was answered by Bobby.
‘Everything’s fine, Mum. Mitzi’s looking through her books and Uncle Jimmy’s watching telly.’
‘Can I talk to him?’
Jimmy assured her that all was well and there would be no trouble about her being late. Corinne hung up, satisfied.
‘Let’s see where the trees lead,’ she said to Alex.
He took her hand and kept hold of it as they wandered beneath the great oaks. The sun was beginning to set, sending golden beams slanting through the branches and on to the snowy ground, and for a while they walked in silence.
It was magic, Corinne thought; the kind best enjoyed in silence. But when she looked at Alex she saw that he was walking with his head down, scowling with tension. His misery reached her almost tangibly, defeating her resolve to keep her distance.
‘Alex—’ She stopped and turned him to face her, and at once it seemed natural to put her arms about him and pull his head on her shoulders. Hang good resolutions, she thought. He was in pain, and she could no more refuse to comfort him than refuse to breathe.
‘Corinne, I’m afraid,’ he whispered.
‘Afraid of what, my dearest?’
‘Everything. Going back to that empty house, that empty life, knowing it’s all I’m fit for now. I’m losing everything I care about, and I don’t know how to stop it.’
Her heart ached for him. She longed to say, Come home. Everything is all right again, and see the happiness return to his face.
But she knew she mustn’t say it. Everything was still not right. Perhaps it would never be right. She shared his sense of helplessness. It was too soon to think that a reconciliation could be easy, or even possible. Until she could see the way ahead she could say nothing to comfort him.
This visit wasn’t working out as she’d expected. She had sent the invitation to the brusque, hard-faced man he had been at the end. But the man who’d arrived had been closer to the old Alex, reminding her of the unexpected touch of defencelessness that he’d always tried so hard to disguise, and had succeeded with everyone but her.
She’d vowed to keep her heart to herself in future, but he’d exerted his dangerous spell on it again, filling her with confusion.
‘Don’t be afraid,’ she said. ‘You’re the man who’s never afraid, remember?’
‘That’s all a con,’ he admitted. ‘Underneath, my knees were always knocking. Except with you. They never really stopped. Hold on to me.’
She did so, feeling him clinging to her in return, holding her as tightly as a drowning man might clutch a lifeline.
‘I love you so much,’ he said huskily.
‘I love you,’ she told him truthfully.
Let’s try again.
The words trembled on her tongue, but somehow they couldn’t be spoken, although she could sense the longing to hear them in every tremor of his body. Instead she raised her face to him and felt his lips cover hers.
He had kissed her before, on Christmas Eve, but that had been different. That kiss had lacked the driving intensity of this one. Last time he’d been overconfident and it had made her freeze. Now he kissed her like a man who feared he might never be able to do so again, with a dread and desperation that made it impossible for her to hold out against him.
His lips still had the skill to excite her, carrying the reminder of a thousand other times when a kiss had been the prelude to lying naked in his arms and being taken to another world that they made themselves out of love and desire. The memories crowded in on her now, making her ache with longing for what she had renounced.
She was kissing him back. She didn’t mean to, but she couldn’t help herself, for she too thought this might be the last time, and there was so much that she wanted to remember.
Alex, the generous lover, seeking her delight before his own, as subtle in his lovemaking as he was unsubtle in his daily life—the man who could be hurt by a word or a look, and who would move heaven and earth to hide it. He had been hers, she had let him go, and soon she would send him away for good.
‘Corinne—Corinne—’
Just that. Just her name, spoken in a voice of racking anguish. It tormented her, but she would stay firm somehow.
‘Don’t cry,’ he whispered.
She hadn’t known that she was crying, but she knew why she couldn’t help it. She was saying a final goodbye to the only man she could love, and though it broke his heart, and her own, she was resolved on doing it.
‘Excuse me!’
It took a long moment for them to return to reality enough to realise that a man was trying to attract their attention.
‘Are you the gentleman who sent for a tow?’
‘Yes,’ Alex said raggedly. ‘I am.’
‘I know we said an hour, but I managed to get here a bit early,’ the man called. ‘Right, let’s get to work. Can I have the keys?’
Alex was pale and his hands shook, but he had regained command of himself. He stood aside as Corinne handed over the keys to the car, then they all walked back through the trees in the setting sun.
CHAPTER SIX
ALEX supposed it was natural for reaction to set in as Christmas passed. That was the only reason he could think of for the weight that suddenly seemed to descend on Bobby. He had always been a thoughtful child, but now he was more silent than usual, as though burdened by some extra care.
‘Do you know what ails him?’ Alex muttered to Corinne, joining her in the kitchen on the morning of the twenty-seventh.
‘No, all I know is that it happened suddenly, some time yesterday evening. But if I ask him about
it he swears nothing’s wrong. It’s best to leave him alone, then maybe he’ll tell us.’
Alex nodded and tried to do as she said, but it was hard to realise that the newly established trust between himself and his son was melting away, and be unable to understand. It was also painful to see the forced brightness that Bobby sometimes remembered to assume.
To divert him, he started a snowball fight in the garden, with Mitzi joining in and Jimmy cheering from the sidelines. When they had got each other wet they dashed back into the house, dried off hastily and continued the fight with cushions.
To Alex’s pleasure, Bobby became caught up in what he was doing and laid about him vigorously with a big soft cushion, yodelling with glee.
Totally absorbed in the tussle, Alex failed to hear the front doorbell, or observe Corinne go to answer it. It was taking all his attention to deal with Bobby, who wielded the big cushion expertly until suddenly it collided with Alex’s shoulder and split. A cloud of little feathers flew up to the ceiling and settled back over Alex, who had fallen on to the sofa in a paroxysm of laughter.
He was madly blowing feathers away when a figure he recognised walked into the room.
‘Mark!’ he exclaimed.
Mark Dunsford regarded his employer with something close to disapproval in his eyes.
‘I’ve been trying to get hold of you since yesterday,’ he said. ‘It’s very urgent.’
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Corinne grow very still. Little Mitzi did the same. But the stillest of all was Bobby.
‘It can’t be that urgent,’ he said. ‘You could have called me.’
‘I tried. Your cellphone is switched off.’
‘No way,’ Alex said at once. ‘I never switch it off.’
‘I assure you, it’s switched off now.’
Frowning, Alex rose and went out into the hall where his coat hung, plunged his hand into the pocket and pulled out the phone. It was off.
‘But how did—?’
Alex checked himself. The air was singing about his ears, and suddenly he knew that what he said next was going to be critical.
Lucy Gordon - The Millionaire’s Christmas Wish Page 8