Wanting His Child

by Penny Jordan

  She was a woman who, as she had told him quite openly, had a very high sex drive—so far, despite all the encouragement she had given him, Silas had kept their relationship on a purely platonic footing. Perhaps he was out of step with modern times, but sex for sex’s sake was something that didn’t appeal to him. It never had, which was why…

  Silas looked down again at his daughter’s dark head. As always when he thought of Honor’s mother he was filled with a mixture of guilt and regret.

  Neither of them had ever imagined when Sarah had conceived Honor that giving birth to her would result in Sarah losing her own life. If they had…

  It had been Sarah herself who had suggested that they should have the pregnancy terminated—neither of them, after all, had been thinking of a baby when Honor had been conceived—but Silas had persuaded her not to go ahead with it.

  ‘I can’t afford to bring up a baby,’ she had told him frantically.

  ‘I can,’ Silas had replied.

  A week later they had been married and just over seven months after that Honor had been born.

  Forty-eight hours after giving birth Sarah had been dead despite everything that the doctors had done to try and save her. Nothing had been able to stop the massive haemorrhaging which had ended her life and, in the end, the doctors had told Silas that there was simply nothing they could do, that no amount of blood transfusions were going to help, that her body was too far in shock for them to be able to risk any kind of emergency surgery.

  She had died without ever seeing Honor.

  It hadn’t been easy in those early years being totally responsible for a motherless girl child. His own parents had been retired and living abroad, and he had been determined that since he was Honor’s only parent he was going to be as involved in her life and as much ‘there’ for her as he possibly could be, and so he had learned to change nappies without flinching, to bring up wind and to correctly interpret what all those different baby cries meant. But then, almost as soon as he had mastered those complexities, Honor had found new ways to tax his parenting skills—was still finding new ways to tax them, he admitted ten minutes later as he ushered her upstairs to her own bedroom, newly decorated last year for her birthday since she had announced that the ‘Barbie’ colour scheme and decor she had insisted on having for her sixth birthday was now totally passé and far too babyish for a girl of her new maturity.

  In its place her room was now resplendent with everything necessary for a devout and ardent fan of the latest popular ‘girl band’.

  ‘I really like Verity,’ Honor told him drowsily as he was tucking her up. ‘I wish…’

  ‘Go to sleep,’ Silas said.

  He had reached the doorway and was just about to switch off the light when she called out, ‘Da-ad.’

  ‘Yes.’ Silas waited.

  Honor sat bolt upright in her bed and eyed him seriously. ‘You do know, don’t you, that I’m getting to an age where I need to have a woman to talk to?’

  Silas wasn’t deceived. Honor, as he well knew, could run rings around a woman four times her age—could and, exasperatingly, very often did.

  ‘You know what I mean,’ Honor stressed. ‘There are things I need to know…girl-type things…’

  Silas gave her a sceptical look. He and Honor had always had a very open and honest relationship, no subject was taboo between them, and he had assumed that when the time came the subject of Honor’s burgeoning womanhood and sexuality would be one they would cope with together. Honor, or so she was implying, had other ideas.

  ‘Go to sleep,’ he advised his daughter thoughtfully before switching off the light and going downstairs.

  He only wished he could go to bed himself, but he had some paperwork to do. The landscaping business, which he had built up from nothing, had thrived—two years running he had won critical acclaim from the judges at the Chelsea Flower Show and he was now fully booked up with design commissions for the next eighteen months.

  Add to that the garden centre side of his business and it was no wonder that, increasingly, he was finding it difficult to juggle all the various demands on his time.

  It had hurt him more than he liked to think about even now when Verity had made it plain that taking over from her uncle in his business meant more to her than being with him—had hurt him and had damn near destroyed him. It wasn’t that he was arrogant enough to think that a woman, his woman, should not want to have a career or run her own life, it was just…It was just that he had assumed that their relationship, their love, had meant as much to her as it had to him and that…

  Plainly, though, he had been wrong.

  ‘Give me time,’ she had begged him, and because he had loved her so much he had.

  ‘I have to go to New York,’ she had told him. ‘But I’ll be back…It won’t be for ever and there’ll be holidays.’ But too many months had come and gone without her coming back and in the end he had been the one to go to her. A meagre forty-eight hours was all they had had together—all he’d been able to afford to pay for and he had only managed that because he had picked up the short break as a special tour operator’s bargain.

  ‘Don’t make me wait too long,’ he had begged her.

  ‘Please understand,’ she had asked him.

  Finally, pushed to the limits of his pride and his love, he had given her an ultimatum.

  ‘Come home, we need to talk,’ he had written to her, but she had ignored his letter—and when he had rung her apartment a strange male voice had answered the phone, claiming not to know where she was.

  He hadn’t rung again and then, four weeks later, he had met Sarah, and the rest, as they said, was history.

  The local paper had carried several articles about Verity’s uncle five years ago when he had died—he had been, after all, probably the town’s most successful and wealthy inhabitant—but Silas had never expected that Verity would come back.

  If it hadn’t been for that incident with Honor and her roller blades, he doubted that they would even have seen one another. And he wished to God that they hadn’t. Tonight had resurrected too many painful memories. Grimly he switched his thoughts back to the present.

  He was going to have to find someone to take care of Honor tomorrow. But who? He had used up all his credit with his normal ‘babysitters’. If worse came to worst, he would have to take her to the garden centre with him and ask Anna to keep an eye on her.

  He groaned. Sometimes she made him feel as old as Methuselah, and at others her maturity filled him with both awe and apprehension.

  Earlier this evening, walking into the restaurant and seeing her there with Verity, he had felt such a confusing and powerful mixture of emotions and when they had both looked at him, identical womanly expressions of hauteur and dismissal in their eyes, he had felt, he had felt…Grimly he pushed his hand into his hair. They certainly made a formidable team.

  A team…Oh, no. No! No! No way. No way…

  Silas looked enquiringly at Honor as she replaced the telephone receiver as he walked into the kitchen.

  She looked enviably fresh and alert in view of how late it had been when she had finally gone to bed last night.

  ‘I’ve just checked with Verity,’ she told Silas with a very grown-up air as she poured herself some cereal, ‘and she says it’s okay for me to stay with her today. I’ve arranged for her to come and collect me at ten o’clock.’

  Silas opened his mouth and then closed it again and, going to make himself a cup of coffee, waited until he had poured the boiling water on the coffee grains before trusting himself to speak.

  ‘Correct me if I’m wrong, Honor,’ he began pleasantly, ‘but I rather thought that I was the adult in this household and that as such I am the one who makes the decisions.’

  ‘I knew you probably wouldn’t have time to drive me over to Verity’s,’ Honor told him virtuously, ‘that’s why I asked her if she could come here to pick me up.’

  ‘Honor!’ Silas warned and then cursed under hi
s breath as the phone rang.

  By the time he had dealt with the call, Honor had made a strategic retreat to her bedroom.

  The phone rang again as he snatched a quick gulp of his now cold coffee. Sooner rather than later he and Honor were going to have a serious talk—a very serious talk.

  Honor waited until her father had gone out, leaving her in the temporary care of their cleaning lady, before making her second call of the morning.

  ‘It’s me,’ she announced when she heard her friend Catherine pick up the receiver. ‘Guess what?’

  ‘Is it working?’ Catherine asked her excitedly. ‘Did your father…did they…?’

  ‘Both of them are pretending that they’ve never met before,’ Honor told her friend. ‘I haven’t told them about finding that photograph. I got Verity to take me out for supper last night like we planned—to the same place where Dad was taking Myra. You should have seen her face…’

  ‘What, Verity’s? Did she look as though she still loved him? Did he—’

  ‘No, not Verity,’ Honor interrupted her. ‘I meant you should have seen Myra’s face—she was furious.’

  ‘I bet she wasn’t too pleased later when your dad got that phone call about the garden centre being broken into either.’ Catherine giggled.

  ‘Mmm…that worked really well. Tell your cousin I’ll pay him what I owe him when I get more pocket money. I can’t stay on the phone too long. Verity’s coming round for me at ten. I’m spending the day with her. When she gets here we’re going to do some womanly bonding.’

  ‘What’s that?’ Catherine asked her uncertainly.

  ‘I’m not sure, I read about it in a magazine. I think it’s when you sit round and talk about babies and things,’ Honor told her grandly.

  ‘Oh. I’d rather talk about the boys,’ Catherine informed her. ‘Are you sure that your dad’s still in love with her?’

  ‘Positive. Last night they were kissing,’ Honor informed her smugly.

  ‘What? Did you see them?’

  ‘No, but Dad had got lipstick on his mouth.’

  ‘It could have been Myra’s…’

  ‘No. Myra wears red. This was pink…’

  ‘But if they really love one another like you told me, how come he married your mother?’

  ‘I don’t know. I suppose they must have fallen out. Just think, if I hadn’t found that photograph I’d never have discovered Dad and Verity knew each other before. I can’t wait for them to get married.’

  ‘Will you be a bridesmaid?’ Catherine asked her wistfully.

  ‘I’ll be the bridesmaid,’ Honor responded firmly, unaware of a touch of wistfulness in her voice too.

  ‘They’ll go away on one of those honeymoon things and leave you at home,’ Catherine warned her, retaliating for Honor’s comment about being ‘the’ bridesmaid and squashing her own hopes of wafting down the aisle alongside her friend in a cloud of pink tulle. Despite all Honor’s chivvying, Catherine still retained regrettable fondness for their shared Barbie days.

  ‘My uncle left Charlie at home when he remarried.’

  ‘No, they won’t,’ Honor said adding, ‘Verity would never let Dad leave me behind. She’s so exactly right.’ She smiled happily. ‘I could tell the moment I met her.’

  Catherine knew from experience when her friend’s mind was on other things.

  ‘I’ve got a new video,’ she told her. ‘We could watch it together on Saturday…’

  ‘Maybe,’ Honor hedged. ‘I might not be very well…’

  ‘Not very well? What do you mean?’ Catherine demanded.

  ‘Wait and see,’ Honor responded mysteriously, before adding quickly, ‘Verity’s just driven up, I’ve got to go…’

  ‘Daddy said to say thank you very much for looking after me,’ Honor told Verity in a serious tone when she had opened the front door to her. ‘He said he was very, very grateful to you and he couldn’t think of anyone he could trust more to look after me.’

  Verity blinked. To say she had been surprised to receive a telephone call from Honor asking if she could possibly spend the day with her because she was off school and Silas had to go out was something of an understatement. After what had happened between them last night she would have thought that she was the last person Silas would want around his daughter—and around himself.

  What kind of a father was he exactly, if he could so easily entrust his only child to a woman he himself did not even pretend to like? she wondered critically as Honor skipped off to collect her coat.

  Thoughtfully she waited for Honor to return.

  ‘Your father does know that you’re spending the day with me, doesn’t he?’ she questioned her dryly.

  Honor gave her an injured look.

  ‘Of course he does. You can ring him on his mobile if you like…’

  ‘No. It’s all right,’ Verity assured her, adding palliatively, ‘I’m not used to looking after little…young women…What would you like to do?’

  ‘Could you take me shopping?’ Honor asked her. ‘I don’t have any nice clothes,’ she confided. ‘Dad isn’t very good at buying me the right kind of things. She looked down at her jeans and tee shirt and told Honor, ‘I think sometimes he forgets that I’m a girl.’

  Honor couldn’t have said anything more guaranteed to touch her own heart, Verity acknowledged. She too had suffered from hopelessly inaccurate male assessment of what kind of clothes were suitable for a young girl.

  Even so…

  ‘Your father…’ she began uncertainly, but Honor shook her head.

  ‘Dad won’t mind,’ she answered Verity excitedly. ‘He’ll be pleased. He hates taking me shopping. In fact…’ She paused and gave Verity an assessing look, wondering how far she should try her luck. Not too far if that unexpectedly shrewd question Verity had asked her earlier was anything to go by. ‘Well, he has been saying that he would have to try and find someone—a woman—to take me out shopping.’ Honor gazed up pleadingly at Verity.

  ‘Wouldn’t Myra…?’ Verity began cautiously.

  But Honor immediately shook her head and pulled a face before informing Verity tremulously, ‘Myra doesn’t like me…I think she…if she ever married my father, she would try to send me away…’

  The horrified look Verity gave her reassured Honor. Everything was going to work out. Verity was going to make the perfect mother for her.

  Prior to receiving Honor’s telephone call Verity had planned to spend the day working, and a couple of hours after she had picked Honor up she was beginning to wonder if working might not have proved to be the easier option.

  They were in the pre-teen department of a well-known chain of clothes shops, Verity waiting outside the cubicle area whilst Honor tried on the clothes she had chosen.

  ‘And I thought having teenagers was bad,’ another woman standing next to Verity groaned. ‘My youngest…’ she nodded in the direction of one of the changing rooms ‘…isn’t speaking to her father because he refused to allow her to have her navel pierced. She’s eleven next week. So far, the only clothes she’s said she’ll wear are the ones that her father will have forty fits if he sees her in, and I’ve got to admit he does have a point. Of course, we all know that fathers don’t like to see their little girls growing up, but—’

  ‘Verity, what do you think?’ Honor demanded, suddenly emerging from the changing cubicle dressed in a tiny cut-off top that clung lovingly to her mercifully still flat chest and a pair of stretch Lycra leggings in a mixture of colours that made Verity’s eyeballs ache.

  ‘It’s…I don’t think your father will like it very much,’ Verity began.

  But she was out-manoeuvred as Honor informed her sunnily, ‘No, I don’t suppose he will, but you’ll soon be able to talk him round.’

  She could talk him round? Verity opened her mouth and then closed it again.

  ‘Honor…’ she began, but Honor was already disappearing in the direction of the changing cubicle.

  It was another three ho
urs before Honor pronounced herself reasonably satisfied with her purchases, declaring that she was hungry and suggesting that they made their way to the nearest McDonald’s.

  They were settled at a table when Honor asked Verity her most searching question yet. ‘Have you ever been in love?’

  Verity put down her cup of coffee.

  ‘Once,’ she admitted quietly, after a few long seconds had passed. ‘A good many years ago.’

  ‘What happened?’ Honor asked her curiously.

  Verity focused on her. What on earth was she doing? This wasn’t a suitable topic of conversation to have with a ten-year-old girl even when the girl was the daughter of the man she had loved—especially when that ten-year-old was the daughter of the man she had loved, she corrected herself quickly—and yet, to her consternation, she still heard herself saying huskily, ‘He…He married someone else!’

  ‘Perhaps he married someone else because he thought you’d stopped loving him,’ Honor told her quickly. ‘Perhaps he really still loves you,’ she said eagerly.

  Verity started to frown. It was quite definitely time to change the subject.

  ‘It’s half past four,’ she told Honor. ‘What time did you say your father would be back?’

  Silas’ meeting had ended a little earlier than he had anticipated, and since he needed petrol he headed for the large out-of-town supermarket where he normally did his grocery shopping.

  Catherine’s mother was heading for the checkout with a full trolley-load when he walked in. Smiling at him, she asked, ‘Did your aunt enjoy seeing Honor? Catherine was disappointed that she couldn’t stay with us after all.’

  Silas frowned.

  ‘I’m sorry?’ he began and then checked. What exactly was going on? Honor had told him that she couldn’t stay at Catherine’s because her friend had family visiting, but from what Catherine’s mother had just said she seemed to be under the impression that it was Honor who had had the family commitment.