by Daphne Clair
He and Rose must be tired too, but it didn’t seem to be affecting their spirits. She cut the last slice and brushed a strand of hair from her eyes.
Craig was regarding her with his head cocked to one side. ‘Okay, don’t tell me. But have a hug anyway.’
His arms came round her and with a small laugh she relaxed against him. It was a comforting, sexless embrace and just what she needed. Some of the tension drained out of her and she rested her head against his shoulder before drawing away. ‘You’re so nice, Craig. Thanks.’
‘Any time.’
He smiled at her, his eyes concerned, and she turned to put down the cake slice and pick up the desserts. ‘Can you bring in that stack of bowls?’
‘Sure.’ He followed her back to the dining room. Devin had shifted his chair, angling it closer to Rose’s, and she was leaning forward, her exquisite face lifted to his as she spoke in a low tone.
They looked up as the other two entered, and Rose gave a small gurgle of laughter. ‘You’ve started on the dessert already?’ she asked Craig. When he looked blank, she pointed out, ‘You have cream and chocolate on your sleeve.’
‘I’m sorry!’ Shannon took a napkin and wiped it off. ‘It must have come from the cake slice when…’ When he hugged her. She stopped, embarrassed.
Craig grinned, taking his place again. ‘No harm done.’
Shannon couldn’t help smiling back. Then she saw Devin’s cool, narrowed gaze shift from Craig to her, and the smile died on her lips.
Devin picked up the half-empty wine bottle and filled Rose’s glass, then hesitated as he poised the bottle over Craig’s. ‘You’re not driving Rose back to her hotel, are you?’
‘We’ll be taking a taxi.’
Devin nodded and topped up the glass.
He looked strangely grim, though he remained the perfect host until he closed the door behind the guests and followed Shannon back to the dining room where she began clearing the remains.
Devin gathered a couple of wineglasses and an empty bottle into his hands. ‘They’ve gone off in the same cab,’ he said. ‘What’s the odds they’re going to be sharing a bed as well?’
Shannon shrugged, taking a stack of cups and saucers into the kitchen. If Craig took Rose from Devin’s orbit she couldn’t be sorry.
‘It doesn’t bother you?’ He placed the glasses and bottle on the counter, and when she turned from putting the cups and saucers in the dishwasher he was disconcertingly close.
‘All I’m concerned about is that they do a good job on the film,’ she said.
His eyelids flickered, and she thought she’d hit a raw spot.
It was unlike him to speculate on other people’s sex lives, but maybe he had a vested interest in Rose’s.
Feeling a reluctant compunction, she said, ‘If they’re having an affair it will probably only last as long as they’re filming. Sometimes actors get caught up in their roles and confuse them with reality for a while.’
‘Very pragmatic,’ he said. ‘So tell me how Craig managed to get dessert on his sleeve?’
The change of topic disconcerted her. For a second she contemplated concocting some plausible scenario, but why lie to him? She had nothing to be ashamed of. ‘He gave me a hug,’ she said, ‘while I was cutting up the mousse.’
Devin stilled a quick movement. ‘A hug?’
‘He thought I needed some…comfort.’ Catching a quick, disbelieving curl of his lip, she said sharply, ‘We weren’t indulging in a passionate embrace!’
‘Why did you need a hug?’
When she didn’t answer, he said, ‘If you wanted comforting you could have come to me.’
‘You?’ She was startled.
His mouth tightened. ‘Your husband. Is that idea so repugnant?’
‘You didn’t offer it,’ she said, bemused. ‘And besides…’ Besides, he was the cause of her unhappiness.
‘You never wanted it from me, did you?’ he said, unexpectedly caustic. ‘Not even after the baby.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘You pushed me away.’
The first few days were still a blur in her memory. She vaguely recalled being given pills, taking them without question, hoping they would help to dull the pain. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t have…’
‘When I held you,’ Devin said, ‘you went rigid, as though you could barely tolerate it.’
That was quite likely true. ‘I was afraid,’ she said numbly. ‘I felt as though I’d break apart if I accepted sympathy.’
He stared at her. In an almost hostile tone, he asked, ‘And is that why as soon as you were out of hospital you insisted on going to work? I hardly saw you for days at a time.’
‘I needed something to stop me thinking about the baby. It hurt so much, and working was the only thing that could make me forget,’ she said. ‘At least sometimes. And I suppose…it made me feel less of a failure.’
‘A failure?’
‘As a woman, a mother. A wife. Filming was the one thing I knew I was good at.’
That seemed to have shaken him. ‘Having a miscarriage didn’t make you a failure as woman!’
‘I felt I’d let you down, let our baby down. And you…you thought so.’
‘Shannon—no!’
‘You practically said it. Your mother too.’
‘I said a number of things in the heat of anger that I didn’t really mean, and that I’ve regretted ever since.’ He briefly massaged the back of his neck, scowling. ‘I felt inadequate too, and guilty because I hadn’t made you take things easier, hadn’t saved you from the pain you were going through. Afterwards, you didn’t seem to need me or even want me, and I knew I’d failed you but I didn’t know what to do about it.’
‘You didn’t fail me,’ she said. ‘I simply had to cope in the only way I knew.’
Devin shook his head. ‘What do you mean?’
She had to think about that before she could explain. ‘I did what my father had done after my mother died,’ she said hesitantly. ‘He said crying didn’t do any good, it wouldn’t bring her back, and we had to get on with life.’
Devin was staring at her. ‘You were twelve years old!’
Shannon nodded. ‘Dad worked out his grief with physical labour—he re-fenced the whole farm in the months after she died, built a new hayshed…anything to keep him from thinking, I guess. Fixing things.’ To make up for not being able to fix the illness that had killed his wife, she supposed. ‘Tears made him feel helpless, and he hated that.’
‘And so, when he died…?’
‘It was…awful. I couldn’t help thinking that if I’d looked for him sooner…if I’d been with him…if I’d helped more he might not have been so tired that he was careless…all the what-ifs…’ She was looking down at her hands, fingers twisting.
Devin reached out and took them in his strong, warm clasp. ‘I know how that feels. It was like that for me after you left. Did you cry for him?’
She looked up. ‘I cried all the way back to the house, running over the paddocks, it seemed for miles, to get to the phone. I was so scared. I called for an ambulance but I knew it was too late. Then I phoned a neighbour to come with his tractor…Dad was pinned, you see, and I couldn’t get him out on my own. It was a nightmare. But afterwards there was so much to do…the funeral, keeping the farm going until it was sold—although the neighbours were great—and then there were lawyers and estate agents to deal with. And the inquest. There was no time to cry, and when it was all over it seemed too late. I was numb, but then I moved to Auckland, got involved in my film course and pushed it all to the back of my mind, went on with my life…like he would have wanted.’
‘You never told me all this.’
When he had asked about her parents she’d told him the bare facts, and he had respected her obvious reluctance to discuss their deaths. ‘I’ve never told anyone.’
‘I wish I’d known.’
She made to move her hands out of his hold, but instead of re
leasing her he pulled her closer and put his arms about her.
Her cheek was against his shirt and she could smell the scent of his skin. Her hands were flattened on his chest, the beat of his heart against her palm.
It was a tender embrace, rare and infinitely precious. Overwhelming longing stole over her, laced with sadness. It was years since they had been this close emotionally. And maybe it was too late.
There was no passion now in his touch. Like Craig, he’d seen she needed comfort and he was willing to give her that.
A kindness.
Kindness wasn’t what she wanted from him.
She stirred against the tempting warmth of his body, then forced herself to move back. His arms tightened momentarily before they fell away.
Shannon ducked her head, smoothing a strand of hair back behind her ear. Fleetingly she glanced at him. His face was grave and intent.
She recalled him saying he had loved her. But had she killed that love with her desertion, her suspicion of his motives, her refusal to accept his physical passion?
‘Shannon,’ he said, ‘we need to talk…’
She was a coward, afraid of what he might say…perhaps that his experiment had failed because of her lack of co-operation, and he didn’t want her anymore. Maybe the suspicion that Craig was with Rose tormented him, and he might lose her if he was still tied to Shannon.
The phone shrilled, making her jump. It was late for anyone to be making a call.
Devin let it ring four times, then swore softly and strode across the room to pick up the receiver.
The conversation was short, but when he put the receiver down he turned to Shannon and said, ‘Bad news. My father’s been taken to hospital with a suspected heart attack.’
CHAPTER TEN
‘OH, DEVIN!’ Shannon went toward him, but he was already on his way out of the room.
‘My mother’s distraught,’ he said, hurrying to the bedroom. ‘I’d better get over there right away.’ He scooped his wallet and car keys from the dressing table and grabbed a jacket from the wardrobe.
‘I’ll come with you.’
She raced into her room, collected her purse and shoes, and joined Devin in the passageway.
Getting to the hospital seemed to take an age. Ralph was in the intensive care unit, and they found Marcia and Lila in the waiting room, both pale and for once less than perfectly groomed.
‘Devin! Thank God.’ Marcia flung herself into his arms.
His own face haggard, he looked at Lila over his mother’s head. ‘What’s happening?’
‘They’re working on him.’ Lila was standing too. ‘We were allowed in for a little while but they have to do some tests, they said. He looks…awful.’ Her voice sank to a whisper.
Shannon moved over to Lila and put an arm about her. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said.
Marcia lifted her head and wiped a tear with her fingers. ‘Shannon.’ She seemed to notice her for the first time. ‘It’s good of you to come.’ She turned back to Devin. ‘They won’t tell us anything.’
Lila said, ‘They’re still trying to stabilise him.’
‘But it’s been so long!’ Marcia’s voice rose. ‘And we don’t know what’s happening!’
‘Why don’t you sit down,’ Devin suggested, his hand urging her to do so, ‘and maybe Shannon could bring you and Lila some coffee.’
‘Yes,’ Shannon agreed instantly. ‘And something to eat?’
‘I don’t want to eat!’ Marcia wailed.
Devin said, ‘You need to keep your strength up to help Dad through this.’
By the time Shannon returned with sandwiches and coffee, Lila was alone in the waiting room. ‘We’re allowed in, two at a time,’ she said. ‘Thanks, Shannon.’ She took the polystyrene cup Shannon handed her.
‘How are you feeling?’
‘I’m okay.’ Lila removed the lid and sipped at the coffee, then grimaced. ‘Well, I’m holding up. How’s Devin?’
It came as a small shock that Lila assumed she’d know how Devin was, under his determined control. ‘I’m not sure,’ Shannon admitted. ‘Where’s Payton?’ There had been no sign of Lila’s husband.
‘Payton? He’s away. He’s been away a lot lately. Business trips, or so he says.’ Her mouth curved downward. ‘I left a message on his mobile phone.’
Normally, Shannon was sure, Lila would have allowed her teeth to be pulled one by one before confiding her marital troubles to her sister-in-law. But the circumstances were not normal, and maybe she gained some relief from worrying about her father by talking about something—anything—else.
‘Are you sure they’re not genuine business trips?’ she asked tentatively. ‘Payton seems devoted to you.’
‘Devoted? Does he?’ Lila appeared to consider that. ‘We’ve never had fireworks in our relationship, you know. None of that scorching heat that you and Devin generated when you were first married.’
Shannon flushed. Had their mutual passion shown? She’d thought Devin, at least, hid his feelings well, but Lila had known him all her life.
Lila went on, ‘I used to congratulate myself after you broke up, that we weren’t like that.’ She cast a sideways glance at Shannon. ‘I suppose because I’d been a bit jealous. I was able to say, “See, it doesn’t last.” Payton was my best friend. I thought we understood each other, and our marriage was rock-solid, even if it wasn’t exciting. Well, I’m not so smug anymore. Maybe exciting was what he really wanted.’
Shannon gave a cracked little laugh. ‘And I envied you,’ she confessed. ‘You and Payton were so well suited, not like Devin and me.’
Lila looked surprised. ‘But you’re so alike!’
‘Alike?’
‘Both determined, independent, successful at what you do. You don’t look to other people for validation, and you hate to admit any weakness.’
Shannon had worked hard at being self-sufficient, emulating her father’s stoicism. And, she realised, she’d married a man like him, a staunch, strong-willed man, reluctant to parade his emotions to the world.
‘I knew Devin was suffering after you lost that baby,’ Lila told her, ‘though he’d have died rather than show it in public. And you went back to work almost as if nothing had happened. It must have cost you.’
‘Yes.’ It had, ultimately, cost her the man she loved, their life together.
The door opened and Devin emerged. ‘Your turn,’ he said to Lila. ‘Try to get Mum to come and have something to eat, will you?’
‘Will do.’ Lila stood up and he took her place as she hurried into the ward.
‘There’s coffee,’ Shannon said, handing him a cup. ‘How is he?’
He filled her in as far as he could while he drank the coffee. ‘They’re doing all they can,’ he finished. ‘We can only hope and pray.’
They did that through the night and all day Sunday, their own problems pushed to the background by the crisis. Shannon ensured that food and hot drinks were available to sustain the family, and did her best to maintain their fragile hopes.
In the afternoon Payton arrived, and when Lila came out of the ward he hurried to her and folded her into his arms, saying, ‘My poor, dear girl! I came as soon as I got your message.’
Toward evening Ralph was holding his own, and Marcia was persuaded to allow Lila to drive her home and stay with her.
Devin promised faithfully to sit by his father until their return, and call immediately if there was any change. ‘If you want to go,’ he told Shannon, ‘take the car. I don’t know when I’ll be home.’
Shannon shook her head. Devin loved his father despite their occasional differences, and if he was keeping vigil she wanted to be with him.
In the eerie dimness of the intensive care unit with its arcane machinery, glowing monitors and soft-footed nurses, Shannon tried to conceal her shock at how ill his father looked.
Devin took her hand. ‘He’s okay for the moment. And he’s in the best place possible.’
‘I know.’ Her
fingers curled about his. She was supposed to be comforting him.
They sat side by side in high-backed, hard vinyl chairs. Ralph seemed to be sleeping. Shannon reached out with her free hand and stroked his arm, finding it reassuringly warm. She sat back, letting out a small sigh.
‘Thanks for staying, Shannon.’ Devin hadn’t let go her hand. Lifting it, he pressed his lips to her skin, and as he raised his head she involuntarily touched his face, his lean cheek rough with unshaven bristles against the curve of her palm.
He stilled as if afraid to move, his eyes dark and unfathomable, only inches from hers. ‘Why did you?’ he asked.
‘I thought you might need someone,’ she told him, and moved her hand from his cheek to smooth his hair back from his forehead. ‘I’m your wife. This is my place.’
Devin made the faintest movement of his head, almost as if he had heard some inaudible sound. ‘Shannon,’ he breathed. Then he closed the small gap between them and found her mouth with his.
It was a kiss of unprecedented tenderness and muted passion that she returned in kind, her hand resting on his nape, her head tilted, lips parted.
Devin drew back reluctantly, but her hand still nestled in his strong fingers. He closed his eyes briefly and let out a sigh. Then a nurse came to check the machines by the bed, murmuring a few encouraging words.
The dim light, the stillness of the patients, and the steady beeping of the machines were hypnotic. After a while Shannon’s lids drooped and she fell into a half doze.
When she stirred, she saw that Devin’s head was resting on the back of his chair and his eyes were closed again. But he half opened them as she studied him, and smiled at her. ‘Still here?’ he said, his voice low and indistinct. ‘Don’t leave me.’
‘I won’t, not while you need me.’
He sat up, seemingly shaking himself into wakefulness, and looked at his father. He leaned forward to peer at his watch, and turned to Shannon, eyes now fully open. ‘You have to work tomorrow.’
‘Don’t you?’