Sharing Sean

by Frances Pye

  Still, it sounded like her brother, Philip, and his wife, and Jules’s two sisters, Alice and Elena, and their husbands would be there. Maybe that would protect her a little. And it was only one night. A few hours to be borne in silence before she could escape. And if she were lucky, that would be it. Once Diana learned Jules was having a baby by herself, not even Ian Dunne was going to be able to persuade her to have anything to do with her black-sheep daughter. Briefly, Jules wondered how her father would feel, whether he would disown her also, but then pushed the thought to the back of her mind. No point in worrying about it now. Having a baby, that was what mattered.

  The door opened and Claire walked in, looking harassed. “I’m sorry, Jules. I couldn’t stop him.”

  “No one can. Honestly, don’t worry about it. He trained for years to learn how to make people do what he tells them. Listen, I’m ravenous. Do you fancy lunch?”

  “I’d love it. Only you’ve got another visitor.”

  “Not Mrs. Pilkerton again?”

  “No. He says he’s a friend. Tall, good-looking, well built…”

  “Oh, pooh. It must be Sean. What on earth does he want?” Jules had had a feeling that she hadn’t heard the last from him. But she had been hoping that he’d got the message. She opened the door to the outer office a crack and looked out. He was sitting, looking very pleased with himself, a large, unwieldy package on the floor by his side. What was it this time? “I’d better see him. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

  Jules walked into the outer office. “Sean?”

  “Jules. I’m sorry to interrupt you here, only I was so excited.”

  “Come into my office.” Sean picked up the bulky parcel. “Can’t you leave that?”

  “Not really. It’s for you.” He maneuvered his way into Jules’s inner office. “Well, for the baby.”

  “I thought we agreed.”

  “I know what you’re going to say, but it isn’t something like a buggy or a car seat or anything. It’s special. And I’d ordered it before we talked.” Sean put it down next to her and then stood back, smiling expectantly. Jules ignored the parcel. “Aren’t you going to open it?”

  “No. I’m not.”

  “Why not? Are you saving it for later?”

  “No. I don’t want it.”

  “But you don’t know what’s in it.”

  “I don’t care what’s in it.”

  “It’s great. Go on, take a look.”

  “No thank you. Take it back to wherever you got it. Or keep it yourself. Whatever you want. But get it out of here.”

  “It’s a rocking horse. Handmade. A friend of mine does them in his spare time. I thought you’d like it. I know our baby would—”

  “Fucking hell,” Jules exploded.

  And Sean took a step backward, surprised by her language. Normally, she never used anything stronger than “damn.” And more often she favored schoolgirlish words like “drat” or “rats” or “pooh.” “Jules? Are you okay?”

  “It’s not OUR baby. It’s MY baby.”

  “I know it’s your baby.”

  “No, Sean, you don’t. You say you do, but you don’t. All right. I didn’t want to have to do this, but you leave me no option. Putting it bluntly, you were a wonderful donor and of course I’m deeply grateful—”

  “You don’t need to be grateful. I was thrilled, you know that.”

  “—but I don’t need you anymore.”

  “You what?”

  “I don’t need you.”

  “And that’s it?”

  “Yes.”

  “But I’m the father.”

  “No, Sean. You’re not. You’re just a man who provided me with some sperm. And you knew that. Right from the first moment we talked about this, I told you why I wanted a donor. That I wanted my own baby, with no man involved.”

  “But—”

  “You heard me say that. I know you did.”

  “I thought you couldn’t be serious. And then after the way we made the baby—”

  “That was just sex. Nice, fun, and a means to an end. But it changed nothing. I meant what I said when I said it, and I mean it now. You have no further place in my or my baby’s life.”

  Sean was staring at Jules as if he could not believe what he was hearing.

  “Is that clear?” she asked.

  It was. It was hideously, horrendously clear. For the last few weeks, he had been blocking out Jules’s denials, convinced that there was no way she could mean what she’d been saying. But she did. The bubble that had been shielding Sean from the truth burst. This was all real. Another woman was stealing a child from him. And this one not even born yet. “You monster. You fucking bitch. It’s my sodding baby too.”

  His voice rose in volume with every word. Terrified, Jules backed away from him. Sean followed her, unsure of what he intended but desperate to do something to stop all this. “It’s going to be my child too, not just yours. Mine,” he shouted, his voice getting still louder.

  The door to the outer office burst open and Claire came rushing in.

  “What’s going on?” she screamed at Sean.

  But he didn’t hear her. Lost in his rage, he continued to yell at Jules, who was shrinking farther away from him. Panicked, Claire picked up an ornate walking stick that had once belonged to Jules’s grandfather and brandished it at Sean.

  “Get out,” she shouted. “Leave her alone.”

  It was enough to shock Sean out of his fury. Horrified by his behavior, he turned and ran out of the room.

  “He’s gone, Jules,” Claire said as she heard the sound of the outer door slam through the building. “Are you okay?”

  Jules nodded. “Yes. He didn’t touch me.” She made an effort to pull herself together. Nothing had happened. Sean wasn’t Will, although for a moment she had felt herself slip back into the old nightmare. She was fine. And Sean had certainly gotten her message.

  Outside, Clive stood in the deep shelter of a porch, looking down the street at a rapidly disappearing Sean. What was it with this guy? First Lily, then Jules, then Terry, now Jules again. And this time Sean was seriously upset. He had come racing out of the building, slamming the front door shut behind him, obviously deeply troubled by something. Or somebody. Whatever all this was, it wasn’t a gentle social friendship. There was passion here and rage and heat. And where those were, a scandal was often lurking also.

  fifty

  Terry walked up the street, toward her house. The wind, heavy-laden with rain, blew full in her face. She pulled her uniform jacket closer around her. Even she was going to have to admit that it was time to get her overcoat out. She resisted it every year; for some reason, she could never find a normal coat that was bright or colorful or had her kind of style. The cold weather seemed to bring out the undertaker in the English—black, black, and more black. She had a gorgeous red velvet cloak from the 1920s, but it was old and getting worn and so she used it only on special occasions. Until the fur lobby went crazy, she had worn a shaggy, antique wolflike coat, but she’d had to put it away. People had started threatening her on the street.

  A young boy passed her, oblivious to the rain, twirling a spluttering sparkler in his hand. If this kept up, he and lots like him were going to be very disappointed. Terry didn’t want to wish for that—guaranteed bad luck to want others to be unhappy—but a Guy Fawkes night free of fireworks would be a great break for poor, terrified Minnie, who tried to hide in the bookcase the moment the bangs and whines started.

  Terry reached her house and turned off the street, to find someone sitting on her steps. The porch light wasn’t on and she had trouble making out who it was. She peered through the growing gloom.

  “Sean?”

  “Terry. I’m sorry, is it okay? I needed to talk to you.”

  As Terry got closer, she noticed the desperation written plain on Sean’s face, the empty cans of beer lying on the step, and the scattering of cigarette ends around his feet. It looked as if something had
gone badly wrong. She had been looking forward to lying in a hot bath with a large mug of strong tea, but Sean was unhappy. And she owed him.

  “Course it’s okay. Come on in. I’ll just get out of all this and you can tell me what’s happened.”

  Ten minutes later, the two were settled in Terry’s mix-and-match living room. Sean was sitting on a large old sofa, the holes in the upholstery covered with a variety of multicolored throws. He had a bottle of beer in his hand and Minnie was coiled on his lap. Terry, out of her drab uniform and dressed in pale-blue-and-yellow 1930s lounging pajamas, was on the ancient tiger-skin rug on the floor in front of him, her legs curled beneath her.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “I don’t think so. You don’t look fine, do you? You look terrible. Like you’ve just heard your moon’s coming into Saturn. What’s happened?”

  “I…nothing.” Sean was beginning to regret having rushed around to Terry’s. It had seemed so obvious to him at the time that she was the person he needed, but now that he was here, in her house, he wasn’t so sure. After all, Jules had been her friend for ages.

  “Sean.”

  “Really. I just thought I’d come and say hello.”

  “And the beer? I suppose you always have six cans before dinner?” Sean looked embarrassed. Terry leaned over and put her hand on his knee. “Come on, love, what is it?”

  “I don’t think I should tell you.”

  “Why on earth not? I’m trustworthy. I promise.”

  “That’s not it. I know you keep secrets. You didn’t tell anyone about the boys.”

  “God, it’s not them, is it?”

  “No. I’ve heard nothing.”

  “Work, then? Has something happened at the office?”

  “No.”

  “Lily?”

  “No.”

  “I’m running out of ideas here, Sean. Is it me?”

  “No. Never.”

  “Then what? Jules?”

  And it all came rushing out. “Oh, God, Terry. I lost it with her. I never thought I was the kind of bloke would do that, but I just attacked her.” The words rushed out, uncheckable. Sean gulped down some beer. “If it hadn’t been for her assistant, I don’t know, I might’ve throttled her.” Sean’s head dropped and he held on to Minnie, racked with guilt.

  “What happened?”

  “She’s stealing my child from me. Just like Isobel. Only I’ll know where this one is and still not be able to see him.”

  “Stealing?”

  “She won’t let me see the baby when it’s born. Says I have no further place in his life.”

  “Oh, Sean. I’m sorry.”

  “She just used me. Picked me up, exploited me, and then threw me away. She even said that. ‘I don’t need you anymore.’ Just like that. She was completely cold. Like what we did never happened.” Sean realized that Jules had reminded him of Lily when she gave him her speech at the Greek restaurant. Just as cool, just as determined.

  “When did this happen?”

  “Lunchtime.”

  “You’ve been here since then?”

  “How could I have threatened her like that? You should have seen her, she was terrified. I’m a monster. I said she was one, but it’s me. It’s me.”

  Terry reached for Sean’s hand. She knew why Jules had been so scared, but she wasn’t about to tell. It would mean breaking a confidence, and besides, it wouldn’t help him to be compared to Jules’s abusive ex. She wasn’t all that surprised to find her sympathies were mostly with Sean. No question, he’d been used. And she could imagine just how hard and unfeeling Jules would have appeared when telling him he was unwanted. She could be a very determined woman. Though there was no excuse for his behavior, Terry found herself understanding how and why Sean had been pushed to that point and almost beyond. But the most important thing was that he hadn’t crossed that line, that he’d pulled himself back when on the brink.

  She squeezed his hand and tried to reassure him. “Nothing at all happened. You lost your temper. And you came to in time. You didn’t touch her.”

  “But if the assistant hadn’t been there…”

  “She was. And even if she hadn’t been, you would have stopped yourself. I can’t see you hitting a woman.”

  “No. No, you’re right, I didn’t touch her. I didn’t. And I’m not going to let this go. I have rights. I’m the father. I won’t just lie down. I’ll take her to court, make sure she allows me to see the baby. It’ll need a father. All children need a father. Don’t you think?”

  And so it went on. For hour after hour. With Sean veering from abject depression about his loss of another child to overwhelming guilt about his attempted attack on Jules to defensive belligerence about Jules’s theft and what he was going to do to counter it. Terry sat with him, got him a fresh beer when his was empty or flat, listened to him rant and mumble and apologize, then tried to persuade him that he was no ogre. He’d only done what 99.99 percent of people do when pushed to the edge.

  Gradually, as it got later and later, she managed to calm him down a little. Helping to make her lucky seven-vegetable couscous for dinner, then discussing Charlton with Paul while the three of them were eating it allowed Sean to recover some sense of equilibrium; it was hard to maintain real misery when faced with such normal domesticity. Trying to calm Minnie down when the rain stopped and the yearly November fifth fireworks started in earnest, pressing a vet-prescribed tranquilizer into a bit of soft cheese and attempting to get her to swallow it took his mind off his own troubles for a bit. In the face of such desperate, uncomprehending fear, it was hard to worry about himself. But eventually the pill took effect and the little dog collapsed, exhausted and calmed, on Sean’s knee, the whines and screams and thuds of the rockets no longer sending her wild with fear. And he was free once again to go back over and over his own misery, his own anger, his own guilt.

  Finally, after they’d been talking for hours, Terry felt that she’d managed to get him to stop accusing himself. Jules was fine. He hadn’t hurt her. That was the bottom line.

  The next bit was harder. Much harder. He also needed to let go of the baby. Terry didn’t expect him to forget about the child, of course she didn’t, or even to give up all hope of getting to know him. Who knew what would happen in the future? Hopefully, Jules would come to her senses and welcome Sean’s involvement, for everyone’s sake. But for now, he had to back off. Otherwise his next few years would be as miserable as his last had been.

  And so Terry chipped away at his determination to fight for the child, encouraging him to accept reality. To admit that he’d gone into donorhood with his eyes open. That Jules had told him right from the start that she intended to raise the baby alone.

  At last, around midnight, he acknowledged it. “Yes. All right. She did tell me. Of course she did. I just buried my head in the sand, I guess. Pretended it wasn’t said. Or that she couldn’t have meant it. Not now the baby’s a reality. Silly, huh?”

  “No, not silly.”

  “But a deal’s a deal? That it?”

  “Maybe later, when it’s older, the baby’ll want to meet you. Maybe it’ll insist. And Jules’ll have to give in, won’t she? But, for now, yeah, you’ve got to let go. I don’t know the law. Maybe there isn’t one. But I do know suing Jules only helps the lawyers. And the press. I’m sorry.”

  “I can’t take her to court?”

  “You can, but…”

  “I shouldn’t.”

  “No.”

  Terry’s no was softly spoken, but for Sean it carried all the unambiguous certainty of a five o’clock football result. And with it he felt the last, tiny traces of long-lingering hope disappear. The baby wasn’t his. Had never been his. Would never be his. And he couldn’t bear it. Desperate for some consolation, for contact and warmth and comfort, he slipped from the couch to the floor, put his arms around Terry, and, before she could say anything, do anything, kissed her.

  If you’d aske
d him even half an hour before, he’d have said he had no interest in Terry that way. That he liked her. Trusted her. Saw her as a good pal, no more. But right at that moment, he needed more than a friend. He needed someone to hold on to, someone to help him block out Jules, the baby, everything. And Terry was there. And so he reached for her, unprepared for the shock that roared through him. For the crazy desire he felt. To touch her, take care of her, make love to her over and over again.

  If Sean was unprepared, he had nothing on Terry. She’d resigned herself to a celibate life. Accepted that sex was not for her, that no matter how hard she tried, with no matter how many different people, she just wasn’t made to enjoy it. Then, at the first touch of Sean’s lips, she was overcome with what she supposed was desire for him. A galloping pulse, a somersaulting stomach, a desperate need to get closer and closer…things she’d only heard and read about before.

  And she was immediately rocked by hope. Hope that she’d been wrong about herself, that she wasn’t completely frigid. That maybe Sean was the one man capable of unlocking her body for her.

  After allowing herself to fantasize for a few seconds, she forced herself to stop. She mustn’t think like that. She’d been down that road too many times before and the only thing it offered was frustration and regret. Maybe her attraction to Sean was stronger than she remembered feeling for anyone else, but she would be nuts to imagine that it would turn out any differently. Hadn’t all those years of disappointment taught her anything?

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Terry blurted out, her voice hard and angry. She was cross more with herself than with Sean—she thought she’d gotten rid of that particular useless fantasy eons ago—but it sounded as if she was furious with him.

  Confused, both by Terry’s abrupt, angry rejection and his volcanic reaction to the kiss, he backed away from her, still on his knees. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…I’ll leave you alone.”

  He stood up, grabbed his coat, and went to the door. “Good-bye,” he said.