by Penny Jordan
‘Margot, let me introduce Tara and the twins to you. Tara is an old schoolfriend of Sue’s. Margot is one of Sue’s neighbours,’ James explained. ‘Like you, she’s a widow.’
‘Only I don’t have any children, darling,’ the other woman pointed out, eyeing the twins unfavourably.
She was somewhere in her late thirties, Tara estimated, although she concealed the fact well, but in her job Tara had become adept at judging what lay beneath the most skilfully applied make-up. She was also subtly warning her that James was strictly private property, Tara acknowledged. She could have him, she thought vehemently, pushing away her sweet untouched and refusing to acknowledge the swiftly stabbing pain their relationship brought, and dismissing the nauseous feeling in her stomach as the result of too much to eat.
Watching the waiter’s deferential attitude towards James, Tara was vividly reminded of the one and only occasion they had dined out together. It had been Sue’s fifteenth birthday; and she had been dizzy with delight when he announced that he had booked a table at a locally acclaimed restaurant. Even the knowledge that Sue was to accompany them had done nothing to dissipate her mother’s disapproval, Tara remembered. She also remembered the brief kiss James had pressed on her untried lips before pushing her out of the car when he took her home. That kiss had changed everything between them.
‘Physically the twins aren’t like you at all.’ James’s cool observation cut across the disturbing memories of the past. ‘They must take after their father.’
Her fork clattered noisily on to the floor as an abrupt movement dislodged it. Her face the colour of the tablecloth, Tara bent to retrieve it, glad of the opportunity to escape James’s too seeing eyes.
‘Do they?’
Was he blind? she wondered hysterically. Could he really not see in the twins’ features the many resemblances to himself that struck her every day?
‘Strange,’ he mused, frowning a little. ‘They remind me of someone.’
Tara thought her heart would stop beating, but somehow she managed to shrug noncommittally, turning away to urge the children to finish their meal.
‘Did I know him?’ There was a terse urgency in the question that caught her off guard.
‘I…’
‘You met him when you went to stay with your aunt and uncle, or so I heard in the village. It must have been a whirlwind courtship,’ he sneered, glancing meaningfully at the twins. ‘Or did you afford him the same privileges I once thought belonged exclusively to me?’
If they hadn’t been in public there was no way she could have prevented herself from hitting him. As it was, it was only by a supreme effort of will that she was able to prevent herself from screaming the truth at him.
With that one sentence he had managed to destroy the last fragile, lingering remnants of her romantic daydreams; beliefs she had clung to without even being aware that she was doing so. His words forced her to admit that what for her had been the experience of a lifetime had for him been nothing more than the gratification of momentary lust, otherwise he could never have spoken to her as he just had.
From somewhere she mustered the dignity to say calmly, ‘The personal relationship I enjoyed with the twins’ father is something very precious to me, and I don’t discuss it with anyone.’
‘Including your children,’ James pointed out astutely. ‘I don’t think I’ve heard them mention him once. Did you love him so much that you can’t even bear to share his memory with his children? You did love him, I suppose? Unless my memory deceives me you were an extremely sensual creature; hot-blooded, shall we say,’ he added drily, his mouth twisting, ‘but with a certain prudishness curiously at odds with your real personality. I suppose in those circumstances it wouldn’t have been impossible for you to marry young; to legalise those desires of which your mother had taught you to be so ashamed.’
Tara was relieved that the twins were too engrossed in their own conversation and their surroundings to pay any attention to them. Where her face had been pale, now it was hotly flushed, words of bitter denial trembling on her lips, but all she could manage was a fierce, choked, ‘I did love him, and you have no right to say such things!’
‘No right?’ His laughter was bitterly harsh. ‘My God, you can say that, when…’ He broke off as Mandy suddenly claimed his attention, and not wanting to prolong the conversation, Tara hustled both children out of their seats, saying feverishly that it was time they were on their way.
James unlocked the car and made sure the twins were comfortable in the back, but when Tara would have joined them he forestalled her again, firmly closing the door and then reaching past her to unlock the passenger door.
His arm brushed against the thin silk of her jacket and she froze, as physically aware of the hardness of his flesh as she would have been had their contact been skin upon skin. She always had been acutely aware of him, and that at least had not changed. He was a disturbingly sensual man and her body, no longer that of a girl, naïve about the opposite sex, responded instinctively to him, the bones in her skull clenching against the knowledge of her vulnerability to him. Being close to him was like losing a toughened outer layer of skin; a physically painful process leaving nerve endings far too close to the surface and every one of them reacting to his proximity. Even so, she refused to move away, telling herself that to do so would be stupidly selfconscious, but all her hard-learned composure was not enough to slow the hurried thudding of her heart or stop the aching tension of her throat.
His fingers gripped the door handle; lean and brown, a discreet sheen of gold at his cuff, the immaculate shirt protruding exactly half an inch below the expensive wool of his suit jacket. The door opened and his free hand was on her elbow; an automatic gesture of assistance, and yet somehow Tara sensed that it had been deliberate, although it was impossible to know why, especially when, risking an upward glance into his face, she surprised upon it a look of acute dislike, reinforced by the swiftness with which his hand was withdrawn.
At best she should have felt nothing; at worst relief, but instead what she did feel was a bleak and terrifying sense of rejection.
Old habits died hard, she told herself cynically as he closed the door on her and walked round the front of the car; and somehow she had never recovered from the habit of being rejected by James.
Her flesh still tingled where he had touched it, and although the twins were soon drowsy and on the verge of sleep, Tara herself found it almost impossible to relax.
It was a relief when the Rolls finally turned into the cobbled forecourt of what James explained to her had once been a Cotswold farmhouse. Now the cream stone was weathered with age, and early flowering pale yellow roses smothered the front south-facing wall.
The farmhouse, although large and rambling, had a comfortable, welcoming ambience that helped to soothe a little of Tara’s taut anxiety, especially when Sue came hurrying out to greet them the moment she heard the Rolls. James and Tara were hugged unceremoniously. ‘This is lovely!’ Sue exclaimed with genuine warmth as she led them inside.
A copper bowl full of the same roses Tara had seen outside gleamed on a polished mahogany table. The hall was square with warm panelling and a parquet floor. An intricately carved banister curved upwards and out of sight, a tall window on the half landing flooding the hall with light and trapping dusty motes in its golden gleam.
A cream labrador had materialised from outside, throughly enjoying the fuss the twins were making of her. Firmly detaching them, Tara followed Sue towards the stairs.
‘I’ll just show you to your rooms and then we’ll have a cup of tea and a chat. Oh, it’s all right,’ she smiled when she saw the twins’ disappointed faces. ‘We don’t stand on ceremony down here, and although Alec tends to disapprove Misty is allowed upstairs.’
‘Where is Alec?’ James asked.
‘In the study. He had to bring some work up with him. I think he’ll appreciate a helping hand. Alec manages one of James’s companies,’ Sue explained to T
ara with a grin. ‘That’s how I met him.’ She grimaced as a thin childish cry pierced the warmth of the afternoon. ‘There’s Piers—furious! I put him down for a sleep after lunch. It’s a miracle he’s slept this long really. I keep telling myself it’s time we provided him with a brother or sister—at the moment he tends to be the centre of attention and he knows it. Remember,’ she commented to Tara taking the next flight of stairs, ‘how we used to say that neither of us would settle for just one child after our own experiences?’ She laughed. ‘I knew you meant it, but I didn’t guess how you were going to achieve it!’
‘I’ve put the twins next to you,’ she added. ‘The rooms have a connecting door. Oh, and by the way, the plumbing arrangements are somewhat archaic as yet, so you and James will be sharing a bathroom. I hope you don’t mind?’
‘She doesn’t mean literally,’ James murmured jokingly, so that only Tara could hear, adding, ‘Don’t worry, you’re quite safe. I’ve reached the age where I restrict my indulgence in water sports to swimming and sailing.’
‘You’re in your normal room, James,’ Sue told him as they reached the landing. ‘And these are your rooms,’ she told Tara, pausing outside a heavy oak door. ‘This part of the house was once the barn, but it’s been converted into living space.’
James had disappeared, into his own room, Tara presumed, and she felt free to echo Mandy’s sigh of pleasure when Sue opened the door to reveal an attractive bedroom with open beams and a tiny mullioned window.
‘We’ve tried to keep as much of the country atmosphere as possible without being too earnestly authentic,’ she explained.
‘It’s lovely!’ Tara enthused admiringly. The room was decorated in pastels and soft greens; pretty fresh cotton curtains at the windows and a traditional American patchwork quilt on the bed.
‘James brought that back from one of his trips,’ Sue told her. ‘Do you find him very changed?’
‘A little older,’ Tara said cautiously.
‘I was thrilled when he called to say he was back in England. We don’t see as much of him as we’d like—the companies take up most of his time. It’s funny really, in many ways he means more to me than my mother, although he’s scarcely the traditional father figure.’
‘You must have been very sorry when their marriage broke up,’ Tara said, hoping that her voice wouldn’t betray her.
Sue shrugged. ‘Not really. I could never understand why James married my mother.’ She frowned. ‘There was always something odd about it, and not just because he was younger than her. You know, when I look back I can’t believe that he ever loved her or that she loved him.’
‘There are other reasons for marriage,’ Tara said emotionlessly.
‘I know, but somehow I could never imagine James marrying without a deep emotional commitment—he just doesn’t strike me as that kind of man. Look, I’ll go downstairs and ask Mrs B., our treasure, to make us a pot of tea and some orange for the kids, and you come down when you’re ready and I’ll introduce you to Alec. We’ll be in the sitting room. It looks out over the gardens, first left in the hall.’ She walked towards the door, paused and then said impulsively, ‘I’m so glad you and James could both be here together. It’s almost like old times…’
They viewed ‘old times’ differently, Tara thought tiredly as she unpacked for the twins and herself; Simon and Mandy had made themselves at home almost immediately, and within twenty minutes of Sue leaving them they were ready to return downstairs with Tara; their hands and faces washed and the clothes they had travelled in exchanged for dungarees and tee-shirts.
Everyone else was already in the sitting room, as Sue had called it, but what in actual fact was a generously proportioned room furnished in tones of pale lemon and soft blue, with huge french windows opening on to the gardens.
Misty the dog fanned her tail gently on the floor when she saw the twins. Simon beamed with pleasure, twisting round to tell Tara in hushed tones, ‘I think she likes me.’
Alec, Sue’s husband, turned out to be a pleasant, sturdy-looking individual in his late twenties, obviously devoted to his more effervescent wife. He greeted Tara enthusiastically, telling her with a smile that he had heard a good deal about her from Sue over the years.
‘I always regretted losing touch with you,’ Sue added. ‘I couldn’t believe it when I came back from that duty holiday in New York with my mother to find you’d left the village, and then when your mother told me you’d married…’
‘You’re a widow, Sue tells me,’ Alec continued, his smile sympathetic.
Feeling a dreadful fraud, Tara nodded.
‘It can’t have been easy for you.’
Again that quiet sympathy.
‘I’ve been lucky,’ she replied huskily. ‘Especially in my job.’
‘You work for Chas Saunders the photographer, so Sue says.’ James interrupted.
His tone rather than his words made Tara flush. She was well aware of the reputation Chas had, the number of affairs he was reputed to have indulged in, and she could tell without him putting it into words that James suspected she was one of the many strings to Chas’s bow.
‘You must lead a very glamorous life,’ Sue commented with a trace of envy, ‘mixing with models and celebrities.’
‘I don’t know so much about “glamorous”; it’s certainly hard work,’ Tara told her ruefully, accepting a cup of tea. Mandy was crouching on the floor, distracting the attention of young Master Piers, who had been busily engrossed in unravelling the thread sewing a small motif to his velour jumpsuit, while Simon was quite happy stroking Misty.
Alec and James resumed the conversation they had obviously been having before her entry, and Tara grimaced a little when Sue said softly, ‘You’ve got two great kids there, Tara. It must have been terribly hard for you—and them. I can remember exactly how it felt only having one parent.’
‘Yes, I worry about it sometimes,’ Tara admitted. ‘You know,’ she pulled a face, ‘all the usual things—is Simon being deprived of a masculine influence to pattern himself on; are both of them suffering emotionally from the lack of a father and the fact that I have to work.’
‘You know even now, I can hardly believe it,’ Sue marvelled. ‘I never thought you’d marry impetuously like that. You always used to talk about having a career and…’
‘Girls of seventeen are notorious for changing their minds when they fall in love,’ James commented sardonically behind them, making Tara start. She hadn’t realised he was listening to their conversation and covered her momentary confusion by saying evenly, and truthfully, ‘Having the twins is something I’ve never regretted.’
Mandy was trying to pick up Piers, her small features compressed with the effort.
‘Do you know, she does remind me of someone,’ Sue murmured. ‘What do you think, Alec?’ she appealed to her husband.
He studied Mandy for a moment and then shook his head. ‘Probably a similarity of expression that she shares with Tara.’
‘Mm, but neither of them look like Tara…’
‘We look like our daddy,’ Mandy said importantly, deciding it was time she joined the conversation. ‘Mummy told us that when we were little.’
‘So you do talk to them about their father,’ James commented sotto voce.
‘Sue, I wonder would you mind if we went upstairs to rest for a while?’ Tara asked her hostess, ignoring James’s taunt. ‘I’m afraid I’ve got a headache, and…’
‘Of course you can,’ Sue interrupted before she could finish. ‘You poor thing! I remember those terrible headaches you used to get. But don’t worry about the twins—they can stay down here. Mrs B. normally organises a nursery tea for six, although we don’t normally eat until about eight.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘It’s four now, so you’ve got three hours before you need to do anything.’
Feeling terrible, Tara started to protest, but Sue overruled her. ‘It’s not an imposition,’ she corrected firmly. ‘I’m dying to get the twins to myself; I
can see Mandy is going to be a treasure where Piers is concerned, and Simon can help by taking Misty for her tea-time walk.’
Knowing when she was defeated, Tara thanked her again and headed for her room. Once there she stripped off her suit and pulled on a thin wrap before curling up on the large double bed. She had taken a couple of her headache tablets and as they started to take effect her drowsy mind became full of memories of the past, of James, and as she hovered in the twilight world between waking and sleeping she felt the present slip away from her and she was once again seventeen, on the brink of love and womanhood.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘AND you will stay the night with me, won’t you, Tara? If you don’t I’ll be all on my own, and you promised you’d help me with my maths.’
Tara grinned down at the earnest fourteen-year-old face. If she was honest with herself she would admit that in many ways she preferred Susan’s home to her own; for one thing it was always warm and for another they could spread their school books out without incurring any of the harsh criticism such behaviour normally invoked from her own mother.
Tara suppressed a small sigh as she thought of her mother. Aunt Mary had once told her that her mother had been a pretty and popular girl before her marriage, but Tara found that hard to accept now, and during her last visit she had heard her aunt commenting in an undertone to her mother that she was too hard on her. It wasn’t fair, Tara reflected rebelliously. On the one hand her mother refused to allow her out to parties or the cinema with the other girls from school, telling her that if she wanted to make anything of herself she would have to work hard so that she could get good A level passes and go on to university, and yet when she tried to study Tara invariably found that her mother had a dozen or more small jobs for her to do, all accompanied by muttered grumblings about the untidiness and laziness of teenage girls.
