‘But where’s what I am in that equation?’ she demanded. ‘Matt, crayfishing, fishing charters, they’re what I do. They’re not who I am. I’m a woman who was truly loved by my parents and by my grandparents. I’m a woman who’s increasingly falling for one little boy. I’m also a woman who’s watched Peggy agree to change her whole life because of love. That’s what you’re asking of me, too, Matt, and yes, I could do that. But here’s the thing. McLellan Place, Henry, Peggy, me... We’d fit in around the edges of who you think you are. You call the shots and we jump to.’
‘Meg—’
‘Don’t stop me.’ Rejecting a man’s marriage proposal in front of strangers was not the kindest thing to do, but then, had it been a marriage proposal? This was a business lunch. Matt was the one who’d linked marriage with adoption in front of Steven. He’d made it into a contract. It felt as if he was blackmailing her into agreeing—and it wasn’t going to happen.
‘Matt, you asked me to marry you and that’s quite a coup for a woman like me,’ she told him. ‘But I’d be the wife who fitted around the edges of who you are and that’s not what I want. I’ve seen my parents’ marriage, and my grandparents’. They truly loved, and work had to fit around that. If I married you I’d be fitting around the edges of what really matters to you. And if you adopt Henry I’d see him fitting around your life in exactly the same way.’
‘Meg!’ Matt looked appalled, as well he might. Steven was practically goggling.
‘It’s okay,’ she said, anger being superseded by a weariness that seemed bone deep. ‘I understand, Matt, I truly do. You’ve made a great offer. I know you’ll do what you’re capable of for Henry, because you’re an honourable man. But me... I want the fairy tale. I’ll admit, I’m close to being head over heels in love with you and that feeling’s only going to get deeper. But love doesn’t work the way you see it. It’s not something that’s there for the weekends. It’s for ever.’
‘Meg, this is not the place. Could we talk about this later?’
‘You’ve made it the place and there’s not going to be a later,’ she told him. She turned to Steven. ‘It was good to meet you,’ she said. ‘You and Matt seem to have Henry’s life sorted. I’ll head back to Australia and tell Peggy that life at McLellan Place could be awesome. And it could be awesome, Matt, but it’s not for me. If I said yes now, I’d be hauled even deeper into caring for Henry. Most of all, Matt McLellan, I’ve be hauled into loving you. I’d be hauled into needing to share your life. My parents had it. My grandparents had it and I’m willing to leave because I want it, too. I think I love you already, Matt McLellan, but I won’t be a part-time wife.’
‘That’s not what I’m suggesting,’ Matt said explosively.
‘So what are you suggesting? Having a family... How do you see that changing your life?’
‘It wouldn’t need to. At least...’
‘Least? Yep, you’d do the least possible to keep us all happy. We wouldn’t be part of who you are.’ She glanced at the still-goggling Steven and what she had to say firmed. ‘Matt, I bet Steven married like that, and he’s on his third wife. So here’s the thing,’ she said, desolation sweeping in to squash out the myriad emotions she was already dealing with. ‘Love should change. It’s changing me and it scares me. If I were to be your part-time wife I might just end up breaking my heart.’
She had two men looking at her as if she were speaking Swahili and she was close to tears. They didn’t understand and she had to leave before she disintegrated.
She snagged her gorgeous new bag—ten bucks at the charity shop...who’d have thought it?—and tried desperately to sound sensible.
‘I’ll leave you to your very important discussion,’ she told them. ‘How to accommodate a child without letting him interfere with your lives. I’ll head back to the apartment to fetch my stuff but then I’m leaving. I’ll assure Peggy that McLellan Place is fine as a place to live but I’ll also tell her...beware where she gives her heart. She’s already given it to Henry and that’s a safe bet because Henry loves her back. Peggy’s preparing to cross the world for love, change her life, put everything she has on the line. I don’t think either of you are capable of doing that.’
And then, because she couldn’t help herself, she took a step forward, stood on her toes and kissed Matt. Lightly on the lips but moving away fast.
‘I think... I hope there’s a plane leaving this afternoon,’ she told him. ‘If there is I’ll be on it. No, don’t leave, you two have important things to discuss and none of them involve me. Thanks for the compliment, Matt. Thanks for giving me an amazing few days. I’ll remember them all my life. Goodbye...and good luck. Please, don’t follow.’
And she swiped away an angry tear and headed out.
Steven’s voice followed.
‘They’re all like that,’ he was saying. ‘Emotional creatures. Time of the month? Who knows? I’ve been married three times and I’ve never figured it out. But it’s okay, I can approve your adoption without her. You don’t really need to marry on Henry’s account.’
* * *
He couldn’t follow. He had enough sense to realise that following her and reasoning on a packed New York pavement was never going to work.
There was also the bill for the business lunch. Steven seemed to realise the gravity of the situation—maybe he was even enjoying it—but he wasn’t about to let Matt go without paying his half. Meg therefore had a five-minute start on him, and the traffic closed in. By the time he got back to his apartment she’d used her headstart to good effect. Her things were gone. She was gone.
Doing a romantic rush to the airport wasn’t his style but he found he had no choice. He checked the website and learned there was a flight leaving midafternoon. But she’d moved fast. By the time he reached the airport she was already through international security.
‘The only way through is if you buy yourself a ticket,’ the security guard said jovially, and Matt almost decided to take him up on it.
He didn’t have his passport on him. He had nothing apart from the memories of Meg’s pale face. Of a last kiss.
He was forced to stop and think. What had just happened?
He’d put a loaded gun to her head.
Had he no sense?
He’d told Steven he’d hoped they’d marry before she’d agreed. More, he’d somehow linked that proposal to Steven’s agreement for Henry’s care.
He’d spoken in anger and in haste, pushed by Steven’s coldness. That haste had had him making assumptions.
He knew Meg was falling in love with him. She’d said so. She’d already offered to share her life with Henry. He’d just put everything together, too fast.
He was an astute businessman. He knew how to negotiate a contract and it wasn’t by bullying. It had been anger with Steven that had had jolted him from being sensible, from taking things calmly.
Where to go from here?
He could head back to the office, work until tomorrow and then take a flight that’d have him with her with only a twenty-four-hour gap. Or he could hire his own jet.
But would it make a difference?
He stared at massive metal doors, shut tight. Meg would be boarding.
Had she used the open first-class ticket he’d bought her when she came? He hoped so. He’d given her the ticket so she didn’t feel trapped.
And then he’d tried to trap her. Ready-made family. Ready-made wife.
Reality was setting in now, cold as the metal doors in front of him. Meg had talked of her work, the things she did to make a living.
They’re what I do. They’re not who I am.
Family? It wasn’t what he did.
Loving? He obviously hadn’t a clue how to do that, either.
He thought suddenly of a time long ago, his parents heading for vacation, and Matt desperate to go, too. He must have been...maybe five?
So young it was just a blur. But when he’d seen his parents’ suitcases in the hall he’d raced to get his backpack, and in a fit of inspiration he’d popped his toy squirrel—Eric—into his mother’s capacious purse. Eric was precious. He had to be in the safest place possible.
And then...he remembered his mother telling him to be a big boy, he was staying home with nanny. There’d been a swift kiss from her, an appalled look from his father—yeah, he’d been sobbing—and they were gone.
His nanny at the time—Elspeth—had been one of the better ones, kind and almost as appalled as he’d been when he’d calmed down enough to realise that Eric had gone, too. She’d known how precious Eric was and she’d taken the almost-unbelievable step of bundling him into a cab and following his parents to the airport.
To metal doors like this one. To an official who’d said he’d see what he could do to get a message to them—but Eric was gone.
Six weeks later his parents had returned but Eric hadn’t come home with them.
Home... Where was home anyway? Surely he needed to be over the concept by now?
His phone pinged in his jacket. He took it out and stared at the screen.
Helen. Work.
That’s what I am.
‘Anything else I can help you with, sir?’ the security guard asked. Obviously a lone businessman staring blindly at a closed door needed to be moved on.
‘I... No. Thank you.’
He’d been dumb. He’d pushed her too hard, too fast, but a part of him knew what had just happened was inevitable.
He’d tried to do family. Meg had told him that was impossible.
So now what?
He clicked Recall on his phone.
‘Helen?’
He needed to get back to what he was.
* * *
Once again she was ensconced in first-class luxury. She’d considered trading her open ticket for economy but they wouldn’t give her a refund and she’d decided, what the heck? A few more hours of luxury and then back to real life.
She’d just thrown away a life that was pure fantasy.
She donned her first-class pyjamas and the flight attendant was instantly on hand to offer to make up her bed. ‘But wouldn’t you like dinner first?’ she asked. ‘We can offer a seven-course degustation menu. And would madam like champagne?’
Madam wouldn’t, and flight attendants were trained to read nuances. She offered to dim the lights and left Meg to sleep.
Meg shoved her pillow on top of her head and thought, What have I done?
She’d given up on Matt.
‘Maybe I could have changed him,’ she whispered to her pillow. ‘Maybe if I married him he’d be a different person. He’d learn to be family.’
Right. She thought suddenly of advice her grandma had given her long ago. It was a joke. Sort of. Brides can go into marriage thinking, Aisle, altar, hymn. It won’t happen, Meg, love. Look long and hard before you leap.
She hadn’t looked long, but she had looked hard.
‘He’d break my heart,’ she whispered into her muffling pillow. ‘I’d sit at that great mansion watching Henry grow up, watching Peggy grow old, waiting for snippets, flying visits from a man who says he loves me. I might even have to watch Henry turn into the same, a man who doesn’t have a clue what love’s about.
‘I could teach them both.
‘There you go again. Aisle. Altar. Hymn. Get a grip. You’ve made a wise decision. You know he’d break your heart.
‘I know that,’ she told the pillow. ‘So why do I feel like my heart’s already breaking?’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
PEGGY AND HENRY arrived at McLellan Place two months later, and by Christmas they’d settled in. Peggy made a warm, if rather muddled, attempt at being all the family Henry needed. Matt put supports in place to keep them safe and content. Even though he’d thought he’d visit every couple of weeks, he found himself there almost every weekend, increasingly taking work with him so he could extend his stay.
Because Henry needed him? Maybe not, but he was always so joyful to see him that the effort to get there seemed minor.
Peggy and Henry fished, beachcombed, turned the place into a sort of home.
He’d talked Steven out of the idea of Henry following his father to boarding school. Instead he started at the local school and seemed to fit in.
Then Christmas.
Christmas for Matt was usually a duty to be got over as fast as possible. There’d be a McLellan family dinner at New York’s latest on-trend restaurant, with assorted relations all trying to outdo each other by revealing how much insider gossip they’d gleaned about each other in the previous year.
This year he didn’t hear any of it.
Somewhat reluctantly he’d invited his mother to McLellan Place, but of course, she declined. It was as if he’d invited her to share a bad smell.
‘You have a child there now?’ she said with disdain. ‘The son of that sleazy Steven Walker? And the child’s grandmother, too? What business is it of yours?’
He’d made it his business, but on Christmas Day the place still felt empty.
He thought, If Meg were here, she’d have hauled Christmas dinner into the snug. She might also have scorned the massive Christmas tree his staff had organised. Plus the turkey. The roasted bird was carried into the dining room and Henry stared at it in wonder, while Peggy snorted as she saw its size.
‘We’ll be eating leftovers for ever.’
‘I like turkey sandwiches,’ Matt said weakly.
‘I bet it’s wasted.’ Peggy was getting more and more acerbic as she became secure. ‘Like all these bedrooms. They’re for show, that’s what they are. No one’s used the whole west wing since we’ve been here. Not that we’re ungrateful,’ she amended hurriedly. ‘It’s a lovely place to live.’
‘I liked your island as much,’ Henry told her as he gamely tackled his turkey. He’d settled well into living here, revelling in his grandma’s devotion and Matt’s frequent visits. ‘My friend Robbie at school says this place is like an island. It’s like everything is blocked out. Robbie says the spikes on our gates make his mum feel scared.’ He surveyed the tiny indent they’d made in the giant bird with concern. ‘Matt, I don’t think I like turkey sandwiches.’
‘Neither do I,’ Peggy told him.
‘But I do like Meg.’ Henry suddenly sounded wistful. ‘I wish she could have come for Christmas.’ He brightened. ‘I’m calling her this afternoon. I want to show her the pictures of the shells Grandma and I found.’
‘You’re calling Meg?’ he said. Why did that make something in his chest lurch?
‘At four o’clock,’ Henry told him. ‘Grandma said that’d be a good time.’
It’d be a good time for them, Matt thought. It’d be the morning after Christmas in Rowan Bay. They’d have missed Meg’s Christmas.
Had Meg been alone for Christmas?
He thought of her in that ramshackle old house. It did have a shiny new roof—he’d organised it—but had she been alone? He kept remembering the words she’d used when she’d invited Peggy and Henry to share her home.
I’ll get to come home after a day’s charter and the lights will be on.
By bringing Henry here, he’d taken that from her.
When the adoption came through he’d be able to take Henry back for a visit, he thought, but then, it wouldn’t make much difference. She’d still be alone.
Peggy and Henry went back to tackling their turkey but Matt had lost his appetite. He glanced around at the truly impressive dining room. The dining table was all elegance, crimson and gold, with the gleaming mahogany table surface shining through.
To give his staff their due, they’d also tried to make it child-friendly. The decorations contained strings of sparkly Santas, and the centrepiece was a revolving Santa’s worksho
p, complete with beavering elves. The Christmas tree was tasteful, exquisite. The food arriving from the kitchen was amazing.
Christmas at its best? It still felt lonely.
‘Do you remember the fish Meg cooked in seaweed?’ Henry asked and Matt flinched. He remembered. If he could turn back time...
He couldn’t. Meg had made her choice. She didn’t want this lifestyle and he couldn’t force her.
But if she was in Rowan Bay by herself... If she was as lonely as he was...
What the...? He wasn’t lonely. What was he thinking?
But if there was a chance she’d changed her mind...
‘Maybe I could talk to her, too,’ he told Henry, trying to sound as if it didn’t matter. He’d spoken to Meg since she’d left but the calls had been brief. Working out travel for Peggy and Henry. Organising her promised roof. Giving updates on Henry. Nothing personal.
‘Do you want to say Happy Christmas?’ Henry asked, and Matt nodded.
‘I do.’
What else did he have to say?
Are you lonely? Will you change your mind?
He wouldn’t say it, he thought, but he would say Happy Christmas and see where the conversation led.
* * *
It was eight in the morning, Boxing Day, and Meg’s beach was packed with Nippers as far as the eye could see.
Nippers were kids who’d be Australia’s next generation of lifeguards, or simply beach-safe adults. Rowan Bay kids loved the organisation and the training it embraced. Parents and grandparents loved it, too. As soon as Christmas was done, every kid within a coo-ee of Rowan Beach transformed into a yellow-and-red Nipper.
The wind had been forecast to blow from the west and strengthen, which meant the main Rowan Bay beach would be choppy. The beach in front of Meg’s house was a sheltered easterly cove, so the entire function had thus been shifted and given an early start.
There was a row of portable toilets by the chook pen. A water tanker was hooked to a shower to allow kids to be sluiced. Rows of barbecues, manned by an army of parents wearing fundraising Nipper aprons, were producing breakfast, and the smell of bacon was drifting across the beach to where Meg was sitting in the shallows.
Cinderella and the Billionaire Page 15
