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Джордан ПенниPenny Jordan's Crighton Family Series
15Jenny only realised that Jon had followed her home as she was pulling in front of the house. She hung back after she had sent Jack inside, wondering what her husband wanted. These past few weeks had somehow given him a much more noticeable air of authority; he seemed slightly taller, and as she listened to him talking to the doctor, she’d observed how much more positive and even assertive he was. He had, she recognised, for perhaps the first time in his life, stepped out of David’s shadow, and as a consequence, was being judged on his own merits instead of being dismissed as merely David’s twin. The change suited him, gave him an added air of masculinity and self-assurance. She looked away from him as he got out of his car and walked towards her. ‘Jenny,’ he asked her, ‘can we talk?’ Her heart sank. ‘That depends on what you want to talk about,’ she told him eventually, forcing herself to meet his gaze. ‘If by talk you mean that you want my shoulder to cry on because of Tiggy …’ She paused and looked away from him again before continuing huskily, ‘I appreciate the way you feel about her, Jon. I know you … you believe you love her….’ ‘No … you’re wrong. I don’t. I don’t know which makes me feel more ashamed,’ he told her sombrely as she stared at him. ‘The fact that I fell so easily into the trap that nature sets middle-aged men and so whole-heartedly and stupidly embraced my … my belief that life owed me the chance to be infatuated with the idea of falling in love, or the fact that I could so easily and quickly realise that I didn’t love her at all.’ ‘It must have been a shock for you … finding her like that,’ Jenny commiserated. She was trying desperately hard to put aside her own feelings and focus on him but it wasn’t easy, especially when she still hurt so much. ‘If that’s a tactful way of saying that you think that was what brought me to my senses, I can, thank God, at least acquit myself of that. No—’ he shook his head ‘—I had already realised the truth before tonight … this afternoon in fact. I was due to appear in court earlier today and I took Tiggy to Chester with me. We had lunch together. Afterwards … Well, let’s just say that when the opportunity to put our … our relationship on a different footing occurred, I very quickly discovered that that wasn’t what I wanted at all. To be brutal about it, Jen, my body told me in no uncertain terms that it knew exactly who it wanted and it most certainly wasn’t Tiggy. ‘No, it wasn’t Tiggy I wanted to talk to you about.’ He looked levelly at her. ‘I know I don’t deserve it and I wouldn’t blame you if you refused, but is there any chance that we can … that I could … I want to come back, Jen. I’ve missed you and the kids like hell. I … I’ve been doing a lot of thinking these past few weeks, and although it hasn’t been easy, I’ve come to accept that no matter how much in the past I might have believed otherwise, a part of me has always subconsciously envied David. I see now how jealous I was of him at times, and I resented the fact that his needs, that he always had to come first.’ ‘But you were the one who always insisted that he come first,’ Jenny countered. ‘You always made it perfectly clear that your loyalty to him, your love for him, superseded everything and everyone else….’ ‘On the surface, yes, because I knew that was what was expected of me, but inside … My son, my wife, my father, my friends, everyone loved David more than they did me and so I suppose when someone, and not just any someone but David’s own wife, actually seemed to prefer me … I’m not trying to make excuses for myself,’ he said. ‘There are none. I despise myself for what I did and always will. I guess a part of me must have been thinking, well … Jenny might prefer you to me but Tiggy, your wife, prefers me—’ ‘Oh no, you’re not getting off by thinking that,’ Jenny interrupted him fiercely. ‘I did not … do not prefer David.’ ‘You married me because you were carrying his child,’ Jon reminded her quietly. ‘I married you for almost the same reason you married me,’ Jenny admonished him. ‘I married you for the sake of David’s child to give him the family, the father, the protection he deserved, just as you married me to give David the protection you believed he deserved. I hardly came into it at all. I could have been anybody.’ Jon frowned as he heard the forlorn note in her voice. ‘That’s not true,’ he objected. ‘You didn’t love me,’ Jenny charged. He looked away from her, his eyes veiled. ‘No, perhaps not,’ he agreed heavily at last, and then he took a step towards her and reached for her hand. He held it firmly between his own, his action surprising her into looking questioningly up at him. ‘Not then, but … Do you remember the night Harry was born?’ he asked her huskily. Jenny nodded her head. Of course she did. How could she forget it? Her first child, the long struggle to give birth, her joy when they handed her her son. ‘That is when I fell in love with you,’ Jon declared softly. ‘That was when I fell in love with both of you. Yes, up until then, marriage to you had been a responsibility, my duty … for David’s sake, the child you were carrying, David’s child, but when I saw him born, suddenly he was my child. I can’t explain properly just how I felt … there aren’t the words. I just know I felt this tremendous uprush of love for both of you.’ ‘You … you never said anything,’ Jenny returned weakly, her voice husky with tears and not just because of the memories Jon’s words had conjured up. ‘I … there wasn’t time,’ Jon said simply. ‘His life was so short, and afterwards … Well, afterwards, when you told me that there was no reason for us to stay married any longer, I felt … thought it inappropriate to tell you how I felt.’ ‘I … I was just trying to do the right thing, to give you your freedom,’ Jenny explained. ‘To give me my freedom.’ Jon smiled ruefully at her. ‘It was much, much too late for that. What I really wanted you to give me was your love.’ ‘Oh, Jon.’ ‘It’s not your fault,’ he assured her. ‘No one can love to order, and the last thing I would ever have wanted you to do was to pretend … fake….’ ‘But, Jon, I did, do love you,’ Jenny told him. ‘Not when we first married. I don’t think that I was capable of allowing myself to love anyone then, but later when Harry … you were so … I loved you then,’ she admitted simply. ‘But it seemed that I’d burdened you with so much already that I couldn’t burden you with that, as well.’ ‘How old are we?’ Jon asked wryly. ‘And how long have we been married? And it’s taken all this for us to be able to tell one another how we really feel.’ ‘I thought you couldn’t possibly love me, especially when I compared myself with Tiggy. She’s so—’ ‘You’re beautiful,’ Jon interrupted her gruffly, cupping her face. Then narrowing his eyes he added, ‘I’ve always thought so. I was so damned jealous the night of the party—seeing you look so lovely. That dress …’ ‘I thought you didn’t like it,’ she owned. ‘You never told me.’ ‘I couldn’t,’ Jon admitted. ‘I wanted to, but I just couldn’t.’ ‘Oh, Jon …’ ‘I hated seeing you dancing with David—I would much rather have been dancing with you. Guy didn’t look too pleased, either.’ ‘Guy is only my business partner,’ Jenny asserted firmly. She silently sent up a small prayer of gratitude for the fact that that was exactly all that he was, even if there had been a moment earlier this evening when … ‘I feel almost guilty in a way that we should feel like this—have so much,’ Jenny whispered huskily to Jon several minutes later after he had finished kissing her. ‘Poor David and Tiggy … What do you think will happen?’ ‘I don’t know…. Jen, there’s something I haven’t yet told you.’ Quietly she waited. ‘It’s David. He’s been taking money from a client’s account.’ Briefly he explained as Jenny listened in appalled silence. ‘Oh, Jon,’ she whispered in shock once he had finished. ‘How could he have done such a thing? What will happen? There’s no way we could pay it back even if we sold everything and—’ ‘I know, I know,’ Jon agreed, reaching out for her and wrapping her in his arms. ‘There was a message waiting for me when I got back from Chester this afternoon to say that Jemima Harding had died early this morning. The accountants will have to be told now, and the bank.’ ‘Oh, Jon …’ Jenny pressed her hand to her mouth. ‘Has David said …?’ Jon shook his head. ‘We haven’t discussed it. I couldn’t, not when …’ ‘And your father?’ Again, Jon shook his head. ‘Oh, Jon,’ Jenny repeated sadly as she leaned her head against his chest. It seemed to be a recurring pattern over the years that their moments of the most intimate shared joy were always overshadowed by David. But this time, he wasn’t merely casting a shadow over their lives; he was threatening to ruin them. Jon may not have said so, spelled it out in so many words, but she knew all the same. David might have been the one who had stolen the money, broken a trust, but it was Jon who would have to pay. It always was…. Obligingly Olivia broke off another piece of her sandwich for the bird watching her. She hadn’t been hungry anyway, she acknowledged glumly as she scattered the crumbs on the grass in front of her. It was a warm, sunny day and she had come into the square to have her lunch but she had no appetite for it. The doctor had reported back to them this morning that her mother was stable and that she would be transferred to the clinic later in the afternoon. He would advise, he had added firmly, that at least for a few days, her mother not have any visitors. ‘She really isn’t up to it and sometimes it can be very distressing, both for the patient and the family.’ Jon had told her this morning about Jemima Harding’s death. A tear trickled down her face followed by a second. She bent her head protectively over her unwanted lunch as she fumbled in her handbag for a tissue. ‘Olivia?’ She tensed as she heard Ruth’s voice, but it was too late; her great-aunt had seen her tears. ‘Oh, Livvy my dear, I heard about your mother. I’m so sorry,’ Ruth began saying compassionately as she sat down next to her on the wooden bench and put an arm around her. ‘No, that’s not it, not why … I’m not crying for Tiggy. I’m crying for myself,’ Olivia told her miserably. ‘I miss Caspar so much. I hate myself for saying it but part of me wishes that I’d never offered to stay … that I’d just gone with him.’ ‘Oh, Livvy … it’s not too late,’ Ruth responded consolingly. ‘You could—’ ‘No, he doesn’t want me any more. He believes that loving someone means putting them first, you see, and he thinks that I don’t love him. At least not enough, because according to him I didn’t, and even though I do love him, I’m not sure that I can live like that … with that … I would always feel that it was hanging over me. I …’ She started to cry again, her throat aching from the effort of trying to suppress her tears. ‘And anyway,’ she said, ‘I couldn’t go now … not with Dad …’ ‘Your father’s over the worst and, by all accounts, well on the way to recovery. He’ll be back at work within a month and then … Olivia my dear, what is it?’ Ruth asked in dismay as Olivia buried her head in her hands and started to sob in earnest. ‘Oh, Aunt Ruth …’ ‘Olivia, what is it …? What on earth’s wrong? What have I said …?’ ‘I can’t tell you,’ Olivia replied tearfully. ‘I shouldn’t have said anything … I …’ ‘Of course you can tell me,’ Ruth admonished her robustly. ‘You can and you must, and I’m certainly not leaving this bench until you do. Neither one of us is.’ Olivia gave her a watery smile. ‘That’s better,’ Ruth encouraged. ‘Now tell me what’s wrong.’ Hating herself for being weak enough to give in to the temptation to unburden herself, Olivia did just that. Ruth let her speak without trying to interrupt her and when the younger woman had finished, Ruth looked across the small pretty square in silence. ‘I … I shouldn’t have told you. You’re shocked and—’ ‘No, I’m not shocked,’ Ruth countered lightly. ‘I’m not even particularly surprised. Now I’ve shocked you. I’m sorry, Olivia, but then, you see, I rather think I know your father slightly better than you do. You find it hard to accept that he could do something so … dishonest. A child needs to be able to trust and respect its parent, so that’s no bad thing.’ ‘Except that I’m not a child.’ ‘Maybe not, but it isn’t always easy to cast off ingrained modes of behaviour and beliefs … ideals. Perhaps that’s why it’s easier for me to accept than for you. ‘You see, to me, your father always has been and always will be the self-willed and rather selfish little boy who always so skilfully shrugged aside his responsibilities and used his charm and his father’s unfortunate tendency to spoil him to his own advantage, leaving Jon to be his whipping boy.’ She sat quietly for a moment, seemingly deep in thought. ‘Has Jon actually seen the accountants yet?’ ‘No, not yet,’ Olivia told her tiredly. ‘Good.’ Ruth turned round and looked across the square to Jon’s office window. ‘I’d better go and see him, then,’ she said purposefully, a smile warming her face. ‘Go and see him …?’ Olivia frowned. ‘But—’ ‘Do you know what I think you should do, Livvy?’ Ruth interrupted. Without waiting for Olivia to respond, she continued, ‘I think you should go and ring that young man of yours. You do love him,’ she reminded Olivia when she saw her expression. ‘All right, he may not be perfect, you may have problems to resolve, but tell me this. Which is the worst alternative, living your life with him, problems and all, or living your life without them and without him? Don’t waste your life in useless regrets, Olivia my dear. Not like … Go and ring him. I insist.’ ‘Ruth …?’ Jon stood up as his secretary ushered Ruth into his office. She might only live across the square but he couldn’t remember the last time she had actually come to the office. ‘Sit down, Jon,’ she told him crisply. ‘We need to talk. Olivia has told me all about David,’ she announced forthrightly. ‘I take it that as yet no one outside the family knows what’s happened?’ ‘As yet, no,’ Jon agreed heavily. ‘Good. Now tell me, how much exactly did David borrow from Jemima Harding?’ ‘Borrow …?’ Jon gave her a dry look. ‘David didn’t borrow anything. David stole—’ ‘No, he did not,’ Ruth corrected him authoritatively. ‘David, rather unprofessionally to be sure, asked Jemima for a loan. Or rather, I should say, a series of loans. The informal arrangement being that he would repay her on demand. Now with her death he naturally feels that the time has come to repay these loans, even though no specific repayment date was originally put on them.’ Jon shook his head. ‘If only … David can’t pay back that money. We both know that.’ ‘David can’t,’ Ruth agreed, pausing before adding calmly, ‘but I can.’ Jon stared at her. ‘Ruth,’ he explained patiently, ‘it is really generous of you to make such a suggestion, but David took two million pounds from Jemima’s trust fund.’ ‘Yes, I know,’ she acknowledged coolly. Jon stared blankly at her. ‘You haven’t got two million pounds.’ ‘No, I haven’t,’ she allowed. ‘I think at my last count it was closer to five million.’ ‘Five million! You’ve got five million pounds!’ ‘Jon, please don’t take offence, but if I were you, I really wouldn’t let my jaw sag like that. It really isn’t very flattering, not at your age,’ Ruth chided her nephew in a kindly voice. ‘And no, I haven’t gone senile.’ She gave him an amused smile. ‘I really do have the money, though I must admit I find it rather irksome to have to use it to save David’s skin, but then it isn’t just David’s skin that’s at risk here, is it?’ she asked Jon gently. ‘You and Jenny and most especially Joss are very special to me … most especially Joss. At my age one is allowed to have favourites and there is no way I would want to see his life and future marred by David’s weakness and stupidity. ‘I was left a quite substantial sum of money by my mother’s sister,’ she revealed with a smile. ‘No, not five million pounds, nowhere near anything like that, but this was many years ago, and I discovered rather to my own surprise that I seemed to have a talent for the stock market. You’ll have to see the bank and the accountants, of course. We can’t leave that to David. You can explain to them about David’s private arrangement with Jemima—’ ‘They’ll never believe that Jemima agreed to lend David the money.’ ‘Privately, maybe not,’ Ruth concurred, ‘but I think you probably will find that they’ll be as keen to see the whole affair sorted out as discreetly as we are. It won’t do anything to improve their professional standing if it gets out that David was raiding Jemima’s account right under their noses, will it?’ she asked Jon practically. ‘Haven’t you forgotten something?’ Jon asked his aunt quietly after a brief silence. ‘What?’ Ruth gave him a quizzical look. ‘I owe a duty to my family, Ruth, but I also owe a duty to my own profession. I am honour bound to report David for—’ ‘No,’ Ruth interrupted firmly. ‘You may be honour bound to report your suspicions but that is all they are, Jon. You do not, after all, have any proof, do you, that David did not have some private arrangement with Jemima?’ ‘Ruth …’ Jon protested. ‘Have you?’ she persisted. ‘No,’ he agreed, ‘but we both know—’ ‘We both know that David borrowed money from Jemima and that is all we know. I do understand, Jon,’ she went on more gently, ‘but while I might applaud the moral strength that makes you sacrifice your own career and life, I can’t say the same about what the prospect of your exposing David will do to the new generation. All of them will be tainted by it. ‘And besides, we can’t know what private arrangement David and Jemima may or may not have had,’ she repeated. ‘Jemima is now beyond answering any questions and as for David … Well, I wouldn’t like to say what effect it might have on his health if he were to be subjected to a rigorous questioning.’ ‘Ruth, don’t do this to me,’ Jon begged her wearily. ‘You know—’ ‘I know that you’re an honest man, Jon, and that’s all I need to know. I’m going home now to speak to my brokers and I want you to get in touch with the bank and the accountants and explain the position with regard to David’s loans as you feel that your professional code of conduct requires you to do. You will, of course, also tell them that arrangements have been made within the family to repay the loans even though there is no legal recourse or obligation to cover their repayment. I think you will find that both the accountants and the bank will be so relieved at having been spared the necessity of investigating the matter and escaping all the attendant publicity that they will be only too happy to accept your version of events, publicly at least. And as for David … Well, it goes without saying, he can never be allowed to work again either here or anywhere else. I think it would be best if he decided that in view of his heart attack it would be wiser for him to take early retirement.’ Jon looked at her sombrely. ‘Ruth, I just don’t know what to say….’ ‘Then don’t say anything. I generally find it is the wisest course,’ Ruth told him with a smile. Olivia closed her eyes and gripped the telephone receiver hard. She had rung the number she had for Caspar and asked for him. What would he say when he heard her voice? What would he do? Would he speak to her or simply hang up? Was she now just a part of his past life, one he only wanted to forget? She heard a voice at the other end of the line but it wasn’t Caspar’s. ‘I’m sorry,’ she was advised, ‘but I’m afraid he isn’t available.’ Olivia’s heart sank. ‘Is he …? Could I …? When will he be available?’ she asked desperately. ‘I really couldn’t say. He’s away at the moment on private business and I have no idea when he’s going to come back.’ ‘I … I see…. You don’t … you don’t have a number where I could reach him, I suppose?’ Olivia asked. ‘No, I’m afraid I don’t.’ Quietly she replaced the receiver. Well, at least she had tried. Oh, Caspar, where are you? She could feel the hurt building up inside her in a low, slow surge of agony. Whoever had said that time and distance healed all wounds was wrong. They didn’t. They just made it worse. ‘Oh, Max … I didn’t think you’d be here. The clerk said something about your being in court this morning.’ ‘The case was cancelled,’ Max told the senior member of chambers as he stood awkwardly in the doorway of Max’s office looking both irritated and self-conscious. Someone was standing behind him, and when he moved slightly out of the way, Max saw who it was. He frowned. What the hell was Madeleine’s housemate doing here? ‘Well, since you are here,’ the senior member began saying fuzzily, ‘I suppose I’d better introduce you. Claudine, this is Max Crighton. Max did his pupillage here and he’s currently waiting to find a vacant tenancy.’ ‘Yes … so I’ve heard.’ She was smiling as she extended her hand towards Max. He took it reluctantly. He hadn’t liked her the first time he met her and he still didn’t. He also had a suspicion that she had tried to warn Madeleine about him, which made him like her even less. ‘Max—’ the senior member’s voice was just a shade too hearty, his smile just a touch forced ‘—Claudine Chatterton will shortly be joining us as a junior barrister. She’ll be taking over Clive Benson’s place when he retires.’ He turned to smile at her, but she wasn’t looking at him; she was watching Max, her mouth curling into a smile of knowing amusement. For once in his life, Max knew that he was in a situation over which he had no control and no power. It hadn’t been Madeleine who was his rival, he recognised in a surge of white-hot fury; it had been this woman, this woman who was standing there smiling mockingly … tauntingly at him. Knowing … And Madeleine must have known. The stupid little bitch, why the hell hadn’t she said something? He stood up, ignoring the nervous look of mingled dislike and distaste the senior member was giving him, then shouldered his way past both him and Claudine, almost pushing them out of his way as he made for the door. ‘Oh dear,’ he heard Claudine saying smilingly as he grimly left the office, ‘have we done something to upset him?’ Something to upset him? She knew perfectly well, the bitch…. The bitch! Charlotte had been grossly mistaken in her information. Well, someone was going to pay for making a complete fool of him, for lying to him … cheating him out of what was rightfully his. And he knew exactly who that someone was going to be. Madeleine looked startled as she opened the door to him, her surprise turning quickly to dismay as she saw his face. ‘Max, what is it, what’s wrong …?’ ‘You know damn well what’s wrong!’ he shouted, hurling the words at her like blows. ‘Why the hell didn’t you tell me that Claudine was up for the tenancy?’ ‘I … I thought you knew….’ Madeleine replied nervously, adding pleadingly, ‘Oh, Max, please don’t be angry. I know how disappointed you must be … how much you wanted to … to prove yourself by your own efforts, but even Daddy admits that to get into the really top sets of chambers, it isn’t enough simply … well, you just have to have the right connections and that’s why—’ ‘The right connections! And just where the hell are her right connections, or can I guess? Did Daddy put in a good word for her? Why? He’s fucking her, is he?’ ‘Max …’ Madeleine’s face had gone white with shock. ‘Please, I know how you must feel.’ ‘Do you … do you …?’ Max grabbed hold of her wrists and began shaking her like a rag doll, ignoring her frantic pleas to let her go. God, when he thought of the time he’d wasted to no purpose, when all along … ‘I suppose you thought it was funny, did you, the pair of you?’ he demanded as he released Madeleine so forcefully that she almost fell against the wall. As she struggled to keep her balance, she tried surreptitiously to ease the soreness out of her bruised wrists. ‘Max, it wasn’t like that…. I know you’re upset, but please, please listen to me….’ ‘Listen to you … listen to you!’ ‘I’ve spoken to Daddy,’ Madeleine desperately tried to tell him, ignoring the searing contempt she could hear in his voice, avoiding looking directly at him and frantically trying to pretend that everything was really all right, that this wasn’t really her Max…. Maybe once he had calmed down, things would be different and she would forget that he had ever been like this … frightened her like this…. ‘I … he … he wants us to have dinner with him and Mummy tonight. He … he says there may be a vacancy coming up at another set of chambers.’ She told him the name and Max stared at her in furious disbelief. It was one of the most exclusive sets of chambers in the Inn and he had as much chance of being considered for a vacancy there as he had of flying to the moon. ‘Daddy knows the senior member there … he’s had a word with him and … well, Daddy said, since he doesn’t have a son, it would be rather nice if he could have a son-in-law to follow in his shoes….’ Madeleine swallowed … and then added miserably, ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Claudine but, well, she begged me not to. Oh, Max …’ Her eyes filled with tears. ‘It’s been so horrid listening to you talking about it, knowing how much it meant to you and not being able to say anything, but I promised, and … please don’t be cross with me … I know you didn’t want me to say anything to Daddy … that you wanted to do it on your own but …’ Max’s head was spinning. A place in one of London’s top chambers … the patronage of one of the country’s most senior judges … He looked consideringly at Madeleine, her head bent low, her eyes down-cast. It was all there for the taking … with one proviso. Son-in-law … That meant marriage. Marriage to Madeleine. Last night he had been anticipating the moment when he would tell her just exactly what he thought about her, the moment when he would walk away from her, and now … ‘Stop crying, Maddy, my sweet, devious, wonderful Maddy,’ he crooned as he took her in his arms. ‘Of course I’m not cross with you. Well, not very much,’ he amended lightly. ‘It was naughty of you to go to your father.’ ‘I did it for you … for us,’ Madeleine whispered, her mouth trembling. ‘So that we could be together….’ ‘Yes, I know,’ Max agreed, gentling his tone. ‘But I wanted to earn the right to tell your father I want to marry you … not to feel—’ ‘Oh, Max, don’t,’ Madeleine pleaded. ‘I was just trying to help. I just wanted—’ ‘I know exactly what you wanted,’ Max began murmuring silkily, his voice changing, ‘and I know exactly what I want, too….’ ‘Oh, Max, we can’t,’ Madeleine whispered breathlessly, ‘not now. It isn’t even lunch-time and … Oh, Max …’ ‘What time are we having dinner with your parents?’ he asked as he slid his hands under her top to caress her breasts. His mind was working overtime, racing ahead…. He would get his place in chambers and his grandfather’s money and if the price he had to pay was a few years of marriage to Madeleine, then so what? In three and even four years’ time he would still only be in his late twenties. He would have to secure his position financially, of course. Make sure that when they did divorce he didn’t lose out and he would have to make sure, as well, that there were no children. There was no way he was going to be forced to support a couple of brats he had never even wanted. ‘I’ll have to take you home to meet my family,’ Max was promising her as he guided Madeleine upstairs. ‘They’re going to love you.’ But as he took her in his arms and started to kiss her, it wasn’t Madeleine’s small round face he could see, but the amused, mocking expression in Claudine Chatterton’s eyes as she stood in the doorway of his office. It wasn’t over … not yet … not by a long shot … Caspar paused before turning the car into the drive that led to Olivia’s parents’ house. He had no idea how Olivia was going to react to his arrival. Initially when he had left her, his mood fuelled by a lethal cocktail of affronted male ego, hurt pride and sense of injustice, he had told himself that in ending their relationship and distancing himself from her, he was simply saving himself the bother of the pointless trauma of trying to pretend that they still loved one another when quite patently they did not. It had taken him a week of expecting her to contact him coupled with an emotional backlash that began with self-righteous anger and ended with the bitter realisation that she was not going to telephone to make him understand just what he had done and—even more painfully—accept why he had done it. It had never worked as a child, trying to bring his inattentive parents to heel or to command their attention and concern to evoke their parental love, so why the hell had he thought it would work this time and with someone like Olivia, especially with someone like Olivia? He could now plainly understand how she must have felt—that he had let her down by not sympathising with her need to step into her father’s shoes. The truth was that he had been jealous, jealous of the fact that anyone other than himself could be important. He had visited some old friends whilst he was at home and had sat politely listening to the woman complaining tiredly that her partner was jealous of their two-year-old child. ‘It’s ridiculous,’ she had told Caspar wearily. ‘Ricky is his son, and that’s part of the reason that I love him—because he is Gerry’s child—as well as for himself, but Gerry can’t or rather won’t see that. He only sees that Ricky is another male taking my attention away from him. I just can’t seem to make him see that the reason Ricky clings more to me is because he senses Gerry’s rejection of him. Ricky needs Gerry’s love.’ Caspar had at first thought she was exaggerating, but it had only been later, turning the conversation over in his mind when he was alone, that he had begun to ask himself if he, too, would turn out to be the kind of father who was afraid of the love his partner had for their children, the kind of man who resented it and actively tried to punish both the child and the mother because of it, the kind of man his own father had been…. Dusk was settling as he drew up outside the house, his arrival activating the security lights. He got out of the car and paused in thought before heading towards the entrance. He had been unnecessarily hard on Olivia, especially with regard to her mother, he acknowledged. As a child he had had no one to protect him from the realities of his parents’ chaotic lives. Was that in part why he had refused to give Olivia the escape route of believing that her mother’s obvious problem was simply a minor abberation? He still didn’t feel that it would serve any useful purpose to try to deny that Tiggy had a problem, which so far as he was concerned needed professional treatment, but he could have handled the situation differently, been more cautious, more circumspect, in his appraisal and his comments, he conceded as he rang the doorbell and then stood back to wait. Olivia was upstairs when the doorbell rang. She almost decided against going down to answer it; she didn’t really feel up to seeing anyone. Jon had already rung her earlier to tell her about Ruth’s visit. ‘I didn’t mean to tell her,’ Olivia had confessed. ‘I don’t really know why I did. She caught me at a weak moment, I suppose….’ ‘Well, I must admit that I’m certainly grateful that you did,’ Jon had told her. ‘Oh, at first I wasn’t really convinced by what she said but I have to say I was wrong and she was right. The accountants and the bank did seem loath to ask too many questions about David’s “loans” and I got the impression they were just happy that the money was being repaid. There are no heirs, of course. Inland Revenue will get the bulk of Jemima’s estate and we must hope that they, too, are content to accept the status quo.’ She knew that it couldn’t be either him or Jenny calling. Jon had told her that they were going out for a celebration meal. ‘Alone,’ Jon had told her wryly, adding, ‘Ruth’s babysitting and Jack says to tell you that he’s going to call round tomorrow for his sports kit.’ Jack. Olivia bit her lip. She felt that she ought to have insisted on taking charge of her brother, but there was no doubt that he was better off with Jon and Jenny. Staying with them, not only would he have the company of his cousins to occupy him and stop him from brooding, but as Jenny had pointed out, since both he and Joss were at the same school, it made things far simpler to have the two of them under one roof than two separate ones. She certainly would have found it hard to give him the time and attention she knew he needed. It was gone six o’clock most evenings before she got home and she left at eight in the morning. She and Jon had found themselves working together as a team as Jon himself had commented, and they were now beginning to get through the backlog of work her father had stacked up. There was a good deal of satisfaction to be found in managing to achieve a clear desk, Olivia had decided, and what surprised her even more was that she didn’t really miss the fast pace of her previous job. She did miss Caspar, though. Tiredly she went downstairs and opened the door. ‘Caspar!’ She cried out his name in disbelief, staring at him as though she couldn’t believe her eyes, which in truth she couldn’t. ‘Is it too late to admit that I’ve been a fool and say that I’ve changed my mind?’ Caspar asked simply. ‘I thought I was already a man, Livvy, whole and complete, but I’ve discovered over these past few weeks that I’m not. Nowhere near. I can’t be a man if I can still behave like a spoiled child. And as for my being complete, I will never be complete again without you.’ ‘I tried to ring you,’ Olivia could only think to say as she stepped back so that he could walk into the house, ‘but you weren’t there….’ ‘No, I was probably on my way here,’ Caspar agreed, ‘praying with every mile that you weren’t going to give me the treatment I deserved and tell me to go straight back again. Is it too late, Livvy?’ he asked her directly. Olivia shook her head and then told him rawly, ‘Yes, very much too late for me to stop loving you. Oh, Caspar,’ she wailed as she flung herself into his arms, ‘I’ve missed you so much. I’ve wanted you so much. I thought it was so important to assert my independence and not let you bully me emotionally by demanding to be the most important person in my life, but that’s exactly what you are … who you are,’ she amended. ‘Stop talking, woman, and let me kiss you,’ Caspar commanded lovingly as he drew her into his arms, tightening them possessively around her. He started to bend his head towards her whilst Olivia reached up eagerly towards him, but then he stopped and glanced up and down the hallway. ‘Where are your parents?’ he asked her in a whisper. ‘The kind of behaviour I’m about to indulge in right now isn’t something I feel I want anyone to witness.’ ‘Dad’s in a nursing home,’ Olivia explained, ‘and Tiggy …’ As Caspar saw the sadness darken her eyes, he held her even more tightly and watched her tenderly. ‘You were right about her, Caspar. She was … she did need help. Hopefully she’s going to get it now….’ Quietly she told him what had happened. ‘Uncle Jon and I went to the clinic this afternoon and talked to the specialist who runs it. She was very kind but very honest, as well. She says there aren’t any statistics to show how many bulimics recover simply because, as yet, none have been out of addiction long enough to be considered recovered. In Tiggy’s case … well, she suspects that her addiction has gone on for a long time, which means, of course, that helping her to acknowledge and overcome it will be very much harder. She had hoped to talk to Dad, but …’ ‘Does David know what’s happened to your mother?’ Caspar asked her, concerned about the pain he could see in her eyes. ‘Yes, he knows,’ Olivia answered quietly. ‘Mr Hayes told him this afternoon, but it seems that Dad doesn’t … doesn’t …’ ‘Doesn’t what?’ Caspar waited, not wishing to push her. ‘Doesn’t care?’ Much as that knowledge must have hurt Olivia, he wasn’t totally surprised. There had been something about them as a couple that somehow hadn’t quite rung true, something that despite their apparent togetherness had suggested that they were simply two people who lived under the same roof. ‘He’s still recovering from his own heart attack, of course, and the doctor has told us that sometimes the shock of that happening, the fear it can generate, can make people behave irrationally and … and selfishly. They’re afraid, I suppose, that he could have another heart attack, and so anything that causes him any kind of stress … or soul-searching, has to be avoided.’ In other words, David Crighton was quite happy to let his brother and his daughter take over his responsibilities towards his wife for him. ‘That’s not all, is it?’ Caspar probed gently, ‘Something else is bothering you. What is it?’ Olivia gave him a startled look. ‘I went to see you at the airport,’ she said evasively. ‘You were kissing …’ Caspar smiled. So she had tried to get in touch with him after all; she hadn’t simply let him walk away. ‘In actual fact,’ he explained, ‘Hillary was the one kissing me and she was most certainly not the one I wanted to be kissing me, and that one kiss was as far as it went. Now, tell me what’s really bothering you, apart from the fact that there’s no way I’m letting you sleep alone tonight or sharing that ridiculous pint-size bed with you, no matter how much your grandfather might disapprove.’ Olivia laughed. ‘Gramps won’t know,’ she teased back. ‘He’s confined to bed at the moment with his bad leg.’ ‘Confined to bed. Now that sounds like a very, very good idea,’ Caspar began and then stopped. Olivia saw the look he was giving her and shook her head lightly. ‘It’s Dad,’ she told him simply. ‘There’s been a … a problem. It’s … it’s all sorted out now but …’ She knew it was up to her whether or not she chose to tell him. If she did and he didn’t approve of the way they had dealt with the problem, then there was a risk that it would lead to a renewed alienation between them, and if she didn’t … Well, that wasn’t the kind of relationship she wanted with her man, she acknowledged, a relationship where things had to be kept hidden, secret, because they couldn’t trust one another’s reactions. She took a deep breath and hoped for the best. ‘Dad stole some money from a client. Luckily Aunt Ruth was able to come up with a scheme whereby it could be paid back without Uncle Jon having to report it. I suspect Uncle Jon still thinks that he should have reported it, even though it would not have been Dad who would have carried the brunt of any penalties the Law Society might have chosen to impose, but Uncle Jon. Aunt Ruth was very insistent.’ Quickly she told him the whole sorry tale and then stood back searching his face for some indication of his reaction. When she could find none, her stomach muscles started to tighten in knots of tension. Caspar looked at her. ‘So Aunt Ruth was ruthless, was she?’ he quipped at last. ‘And quite rightly so. What your father did was wrong but Ruth is on the mark when she says that all of you would have been affected if his theft had become public.’ ‘It still doesn’t seem fair that Dad should get away with … with what he did,’ Olivia confessed seconds later as she leaned her head in grateful love against Caspar’s shoulder. ‘Just as he’s always got away with things….’ ‘Perhaps not, but justice, as they say, is blind and sometimes the innocent can be hurt along with the guilty. Oh, by the way,’ he added as he turned her gently towards the stairs. ‘I almost forgot. I’ve checked with the university in Manchester and there’s a lectureship coming up that I can apply for if I wish. It would mean one or both of us commuting, I suppose, but …’ Olivia stared at him. ‘You mean you’ve actually … you’re really prepared … You’d really come back here to live and work?’ Her voice broke. ‘Why not? You’re here, aren’t you?’ Caspar returned lovingly. ‘Oh, Caspar!’ she cried. ‘I love you, I love you so much.’ ‘Thank you,’ he replied simply before adding, ‘and never mind “Oh, Caspar”. What I want to hear and what I fully intend to hear is “Oooh … oooh … ooooh, Caspar”.’ Olivia laughed. ‘Really. And there was I hoping you wouldn’t leave me breath for anything like that….’ she managed to say between kisses. She laughed again as he released her and she started to run towards the stairs, knowing perfectly well that he would catch her long before she made it to the comfortable guest bedroom with its cosy double bed. David smiled at the receptionist. ‘You’re leaving us?’ she asked, frowning. ‘But …’ ‘I have to go,’ David told her confidingly. ‘My wife isn’t very well unfortunately and I’m needed at home.’ ‘Oh, well, in that case, I suppose …’ David gave her a second smile. He had been planning things all day. No need for him to concern himself with Tiggy any more, thank God. Someone else had that onerous responsibility now. Jack was safe with Jon and Jenny. There was the other matter, of course, but he knew that Jon would find a way of sorting things out. Good old Jon. It was time he was allowed to choose what he wanted to do with his own life. High time. Ben would naturally be upset … but he would understand; he always had. Still smiling, David walked out into the darkness. ‘He’s left …? But how … where …?’ Jon asked the receptionist in exasperation. She had been summoned by the specialist, whom Jon had telephoned when he discovered that David had checked out of the nursing home, to explain exactly what had happened. ‘I don’t know,’ she replied unhelpfully. ‘He didn’t say. He just said that his wife needed him.’ Jon looked at the specialist, who shook his head. ‘I’ve already checked. I’m afraid they haven’t seen or heard from him.’ ‘But where has he gone?’ Jon queried a second time, ‘and why?’ Mr Hayes frowned as he looked at him. ‘I don’t know,’ he admitted, ‘but what I do know is that every year, every day, people do disappear by choice. Some because they see it as their only way out of an impossible situation, and some, because … well … who knows?’ ‘You think David has done that … simply disappeared?’ ‘Chosen to disappear,’ the specialist corrected him. Jon closed his eyes. ‘Try not to worry,’ the other man advised. ‘He may simply have gone to visit friends or …’ When he saw the look Jon was giving him, he stopped. ‘It happens,’ he said, shrugging. ‘It does happen.’ As he drove onto the ferry, David was whistling. God but he felt good. This was how life should be lived. How life, his life, was meant to be lived. Freely—unplanned, uncluttered and unencumbered by the needs of others. He was free at last! ‘What on earth are we going to tell Ben?’ Jon asked Jenny soberly after he told her what had happened. ‘Nothing,’ Jenny told him crisply. ‘Let the doctor tell him. David is not your responsibility, Jon,’ she reminded her husband. ‘He’s your brother, you are his twin, yes, but he is not your responsibility. Besides, we’ve got a wedding to plan,’ she reminded him. ‘And one to attend,’ Jon agreed. Max had telephoned them earlier to announce his engagement just after Olivia and Caspar had left, Olivia having half-shyly asked Jenny if she would help her with her wedding plans. ‘I don’t want a big fussy affair, just something very traditional and simple….’ ‘Don’t listen to her,’ Caspar had warned Jenny. ‘I want the whole works so that I can bore the pants off our grandchildren, talking about it to them.’ ‘David’s made his choice about the way he wants to live his life,’ Jenny told Jon gently as she leaned across to kiss him. ‘That’s his right … just as it’s our right to choose how we live our lives.’ Lovingly he smiled back at her and then murmured, ‘Do you think two ancient people in their forties and fifties would be allowed by their offspring to plead tiredness and go to bed early?’ ‘Not if it’s Joss you’re trying to convince,’ Jenny answered, laughing. ‘You promised you’d take him and Jack fishing tonight, remember …?’ Jon groaned and demanded plaintively, ‘What does a man have to do in this household to get time on his own with his wife?’ ‘Put sleeping tablets in everyone else’s milk?’ Jenny suggested drolly. ‘I wish,’ was Jon’s heartfelt response as Joss came rushing in, demanding to know if his father was ready to leave. ‘Oh, I wish!’ Получить полную версию книги можно по ссылке - Здесь 7
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