by Nikki Logan
She turned and walked as steady as her wobbly legs would take her, over the broken glass and back into the bedroom where he’d conveniently removed all evidence of his presence while she slept off the after-effects of their passionate hours together.
She closed the door behind her and leaned on it, resolutely forbidding her eyes from filling, breath suspended and ears acutely honed to the noises coming from the other side of the door until her lungs burned with the need for air. The sounds of Aiden rinsing his mug and placing it on her stainless-steel draining board. Unlocking the internal deadlocks. Closing the door quietly behind him.
She welcomed the numbness, her old friend, and knew it would get her by until she could deal with the complicated mess of emotions burbling up inside her. It was only after she was certain that she had the acoustic protection of several walls between them that she let herself suck in a long-overdue breath and then slid down the door onto the carpet. She pushed her hair away from her face and stared in total confusion as her hands came away wet.
The tears she hadn’t wanted to shed. The tears she hadn’t even felt sliding down her face. Just like the lacerations on her bare feet that leaked a rich, awful crimson onto her mother’s carpet.
The tears and blood—like the heartbreak—that spilled freely in total defiance to her will.
TWELVE
Six weeks later
If Nathaniel noticed they’d reverted to clandestine, just-the-two-of-them meetings to catch up, he didn’t let on to Tash. His conversation, as it always was, was easy and low pressure, and she got the sense that he enjoyed the freedom of agenda-free exchanges as much as she did. He’d mentioned Aiden only twice. The first time her wince couldn’t have failed to get his attention and, the second time, his scrutiny was so intense as he casually dropped his son’s name into the discussion Tash knew he must have been fishing.
But when she’d kept her face rigid and let the clang of the name-drop go unanswered, he’d sat back and then carefully not mentioned Aiden again.
For weeks.
‘So how’s the new place working out?’ she asked, stirring her latte.
‘It’s fine. I never was much of an accumulator; most of what I took with me we could stack on this café table so the size is fine.’
‘Do you need anything?’
His hand curled around hers. ‘Bless you, Tash. No. Anything I need I can buy.’
Oh, that’s right. Money. She shrugged. ‘Do you need company, then?’
Tiny lines forked at the corner of his eyes. ‘Are you offering?’
‘You know I enjoy our time together.’ Lord. Was she actually as desperate as she sounded?
‘Shouldn’t you spend that time with your friends?’
‘I thought we were friends.’
The look he gave her was so...fatherly. ‘I’d love to see you any time.’
‘At least I’ll know you’re not burying yourself in your work.’
‘It’s tempting, but no,’ he said. ‘One workaholic in the family is sufficient.’
Tash’s entire body tightened. ‘Is Aiden pulling long hours?’ she asked as casually as she could. Like the carefully orchestrated mentions in her mother’s diary. She had to start doing it some time.
Nathaniel snorted. ‘Long, intense. And dragging others with him. He’s presently the menace of the entire firm.’ He studied her closely. ‘Would you know anything about that?’
She was as bad with feigning innocence as she was with lying. ‘When did it start?’ she hedged.
‘The day he found out my history with your mother.’
Her chest tightened. ‘Well, there you go, then.’
‘I assumed it was that but when I tried to speak to him about it he brushed me off as though he had more important things to think about.’
Maybe it was a guilty conscience. Good. She hoped that her parting words might have had some impact. She shrugged. ‘Who knows?’
‘Actually, I thought you might know, given the changes in your behaviour started right at the same time.’
Her eyes shot up to his. ‘What changes?’
‘You’re so flat now. All the vibrancy and the joy you had are absent.’
It was true. She could see it in her work.
Nathaniel carefully picked his way through a bundle of things he obviously wanted to say. ‘Tash, I don’t care whether we’re blood relatives or not—you have become as close to me as a daughter and I want to keep it that way. I’m worried about you.’
Strange that the question of her parentage was no longer even on her radar. Nor, truth be told, Eric Sinclair’s absence in her life. Something about her miserable encounter with Aiden a few weeks back had given her some much-needed perspective.
People treated you exactly as you let them.
Had it really taken her thirty years to work that out?
She’d accused Aiden’s family of living in the past, but wasn’t that exactly what she was doing with her father? She was who she was; the why of it really didn’t matter anymore. She would only drive herself crazy worrying about things she just couldn’t change.
She smiled up at Nathaniel. ‘I’d be happy to be your honorary daughter. Except—’
‘Aiden is a grown man.’ Nathaniel guessed the direction of her thoughts. ‘He doesn’t have to like our friendship but he has to accept it.’
‘He’s very complicated,’ she whispered. ‘And very conflicted.’
‘I could have left Laura,’ Nathaniel sighed, on a tangent. ‘When you were young. It would have been the right time. But I saw the huge influence she was already having on Aiden and I knew that would go unchecked if I wasn’t there to balance it out.’
Air rushed into Tash’s lungs. ‘You stayed for Aiden’s sake?’
‘I am not perfect, but I could at least remediate the worst of Laura’s own issues. Ensure he grew up a good man. A sane man.’
‘You did well,’ Tash breathed. You know, except for the whole arrogant, narcissistic, emotional-cripple thing.
‘I often wished I had even part of your mother’s fortitude. When the time came to do the tough thing, she just did it. She didn’t look back. Perhaps Aiden would have been less affected if he’d been raised away from his parents’ issues.’
She leaned over and slid her fingers onto his. ‘You might not have had much of a relationship with him at all, then. And imagine what that would be like.’
She didn’t have to imagine it. For her it was a reality.
Nathaniel separated his fingers so hers could slip between them. Then he squeezed. ‘Whenever I got in a bind I used to think, What would Adele do?’
It was so close to what she did, herself, it was hard not to smile. ‘What do you think she would have done differently in our position?’
He stared at her a moment, thinking. ‘She would have done exactly what she always did. Act. Concrete positive action to change her situation. Not just waited to see what others would do.’
For weeks, the only path Tash could see ahead of her was dark, musty and singular. Forging onwards, forcing herself to forget Aiden and patching up her life as best she could. Surviving.
But Nathaniel’s words blew a hole in the side of that tunnel, revealing a whole other pathway running parallel. Bright and filled with fresh air and the smell of violets. Like her mother’s moisturiser. Forking off to the left.
Lord knew she was ready for a fork in her life. A new direction. A new way of doing things. Because the old way sure wasn’t working. Maybe it was time to do more than just survive.
She sat up straighter at the café table.
Maybe it was time to fight.
She pulled their joined hands up to her lips. ‘Nathaniel,’ she whispered as he
blushed. ‘Has anyone ever told you that you are a brilliant man?’
‘Someone once did.’ His eyes twinkled dangerously with emotion. ‘I’m so very glad I’m finally able to repay the compliment.’
* * *
The dying strains of Big Ben’s chimes echoed in what was obviously an expansive hallway beyond the ornate front door. Tash ran her fingers along the shapes carved into its timber and waited for a response. The distinctive click-clack of approaching heels on marble came just a moment later, but they stopped at the front door and then...nothing. She could practically feel the gaze burning down onto her through the security peephole and the weight of the silence afterwards.
Would Laura open the door when she saw who’d rung the bell?
Seconds ticked by.
Maybe not.
‘I just need a few moments of your time, Mrs Moore,’ she offered in an even voice, eyes neutrally forward. Non-threatening. Like approaching a stressed-out dog.
Still nothing. Then, finally, the reluctant click of a deadlock and the door swung inward. Though not wide open, Tash noticed.
‘Mrs Moore, I’m—’
‘I know who you are,’ Laura Moore began. ‘What do you want?’
The words should have been rude, if they weren’t so terribly defensive. And old. It struck her then how much beyond her actual age Laura Moore seemed. She must have turned fifty this year, too. But she seemed two decades older.
‘I was hoping I could have a word with you.’
‘About?’
Here went nothing... ‘About your son. Please.’
That was the last thing Laura was expecting, obviously. Surprise had her stepping back, leaving a Tash-width aperture in the expensive doorway. She squeezed through into the ornate foyer and followed Laura into the house. Beyond the foyer, a luxurious home unfolded. Above them, at the top of a wide staircase, yet more rooms and landings sprawled. Tash’s entire cottage could have fitted in Laura Moore’s enormous kitchen, alone.
The phone rang and Laura excused herself to get it, murmured quietly and briefly into the handset, and then turned back to Tash, sliding it back into its cradle. ‘What can I do for you, Miss Porter?’
‘Sinclair.’
She didn’t acknowledge the correction. ‘I never expected to see you here.’
‘No. I can imagine.’ Tash glanced at four tall, leather stools peeking out from below the marble overhang of the expansive kitchen counters. ‘Shall we sit?’
Laura didn’t move. ‘Will it take that long?’
Okay, defensive and now officially rude. ‘I guess not.’ She shifted her feet wider. ‘I wanted to ask you about those days at uni with my mother and Nathaniel.’
She stiffened horribly. ‘I thought you wanted to talk about Aiden.’
She stuck to her guns. ‘It’s related. Are you aware he now knows that Nathaniel and my mother were together before he married you?’
Judging by the way her colour bleached just slightly, no, she didn’t.
‘Aiden wouldn’t have said anything to hurt me. He’s very kind in that way.’
Kind or maybe just well trained in issues-avoidance.
Laura’s lips pressed into a straight, rucked line. ‘I assume I have you to thank for that?’
‘Indirectly.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I thought I might have been Nathaniel’s biological daughter.’
Two things happened then; the bleaching intensified and the most curious glint hardened in Laura’s eyes. Like vindication. But it was wholly internal. Her voice, when it came, actually trembled. ‘And...are you?’
‘I am not.’
‘Ah.’
That was a curious response. ‘Did you expect me to be?’
Laura considered that for moments. ‘It would have explained so much.’
‘That’s what I thought.’
‘So you are Eric’s?’
That threw her. ‘As far as I’m aware.’ Though she’d still give anything not to be, just on genetic grounds alone.
‘Did that please you?’
Tash worked hard to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. Things were tense enough between them. ‘No. Not at all.’
Laura nodded. ‘I can imagine. Eric was a difficult young man. I can’t imagine he improved with age.’
Out of nowhere, a new question burned on her tongue. ‘Why were you friends with him?’
It seemed to throw Laura, too. But she shifted sideways and leaned against her expensive kitchen counter. ‘Eric was just always...there. We formed a little group on orientation day and never really parted until—’ she stumbled and changed tack ‘—until I withdrew from my studies. He was peripheral to the three of us and never seemed to understand that.’
Or maybe he had...only too well.
‘You didn’t like him?’
‘I didn’t trust him, particularly. None of us did.’
Rightly, as it turned out. But the opening was too good to pass up. ‘Why would my mother marry him?’
Maybe it was the parent in Laura—unable to let another woman’s child go unanswered on something so fundamental. Or maybe she’d just been telling herself this for so long. Consternation flitted across her face before she responded, ‘Because he asked. And because she wanted to make a statement.’
It would be easy to imagine the latter, but not the former. ‘I can’t believe she would marry someone like that just because he asked.’
Laura’s face pinched. ‘She was...adrift. And he was available and eager. Your mother didn’t like to be out of the centre of things.’
Tash bit her tongue. She had a purpose coming here today, and proving Aiden right by riling up his mother was not it. Besides, once again, Laura’s words were laced with bitterness, not vindictiveness.
‘Do you know why he was like that? Eric Sinclair?’
For the first time, Laura’s eyes seemed to soften. ‘He came from a broken family. Not very nice, if I remember rightly.’
Tash came from a not very nice broken situation, too, but she hoped she was nothing like him.
‘And he loved your mother completely. He always did like shiny things.’
‘He can’t have loved her. Look how he treated her.’ She wondered how much Laura knew about the punishment meted out to her mother before she found the strength to leave him.
‘You weren’t there, Natasha. You never saw how much he adored her, hovering like a bee to her daisy. But she never gave him the time of day.’ That hard glint returned. ‘Not until...’
‘Until Nathaniel left her.’ For you. ‘So he should have been the happiest man on the planet. Shouldn’t he?’ Something was off here.
‘Can you imagine what it’s like—’ Laura gritted out ‘—to be the second choice of the person you love? That wouldn’t have sat well with a fragile ego like Eric’s. Even if he was getting what he wanted.’
Or with a damaged woman like Laura, Tash suddenly realised. How had she missed the obvious parallels in the two old friends?
‘To have reminders thrust in your face every day,’ Laura went on, warming up to her topic. ‘Even in the things they didn’t say. To have your own child named for another man.’
An ice covering formed on the confusion pooling in her gut. ‘I’m named for Nathaniel?’
Those blue eyes, so like Aiden’s yet so very different, hardened impossibly further. ‘He always believed so.’
He who? Eric? Or Nathaniel?
She tried to imagine life with Aiden while he was secretly in love with someone else. And then she tried to imagine it wasn’t a secret. How that would eat at you over time. The sudden realisation didn’t make her like her father any better, but it did help explain his great slide into antipathy. ‘But Mum was always very careful not to rub it in his face,’ Tash defende
d. ‘She didn’t even use his name in her diaries.’
‘Infinitely worse!’ Laura barked. ‘As though his name was something to be cherished and kept close. Or as if that made it even the slightest bit possible to forget what had gone before.’
Oh, they were definitely talking in code here. She absorbed Laura’s words. ‘Yes. I can see that. It must have been difficult.’
‘Don’t patronise me. Or him. Until you’ve lived it you can’t understand.’
She stared at the older woman, her face wrought with a lifetime of sorrow, and whispered, ‘You still love Nathaniel, though. Even now?’
Fierceness filled her eyes. ‘I will die loving that man.’
Just like her mother. ‘Which is why you don’t like me.’
‘I don’t have an opinion either way about you,’ Laura spat her lie. ‘Your mother and her offspring are of no consequence to me.’
Tash leaned in. ‘You were friends,’ she urged and Laura’s face pinched. ‘Her diaries are full of the great times you had together before it all went wrong. What happened?’
‘My father happened,’ a deep voice said from behind her. ‘Isn’t it always a man at the root of every female complaint?’
‘Darling...’ Laura’s face and entire demeanour changed on seeing her son. Even her body language somehow grew more...frail. More vulnerable.
Viper.
‘What are you doing here?’ Laura purred.
Aiden threw her a frustrated, blank look. ‘You pressed the panic alarm. We spoke by phone a few minutes ago. I came because I thought it was an emergency.’ He turned his glare onto Tash, punishing her for wasting his time. As if she’d pressed some duress button. ‘Instead I find the two of you in a cosy tête-à-tête.’
A thousand miles from cosy. Tash squared her shoulders against the hot surge that seeing him birthed, and faced his scorn. ‘I decided that if your family’s inability to accept me was all that was stopping us being together then I’d see if there wasn’t something I could do about that.’
Behind her, Laura gasped.
Aiden’s brows dipped. ‘Proactive, as always—’
For Aiden, that was a very mild response. Would she get off that lightly?
