by Anne Mather
‘Raf—Raul!’ Ally’s legs simply refused to support her and, uncaring at that moment what Jennifer might think, she hooked a trembling hip over a corner of the desk. She licked her dry lips. ‘Raul—is—is there?’
‘He was,’ agreed Sam, apparently pleased at her parent’s reaction to her news. ‘He’s quite a hunk, isn’t he?’
Ally didn’t know how to answer her. ‘Wh—what did he want?’ she asked, while her mind posed and rejected all the reasons why Raul might be in the north-east of England. Although there were boatyards in the area producing the kind of craft his father chartered to holidaymakers, companies, and the like, she couldn’t believe he had come so far to place an order he could have made at the Boat Show over a month ago.
‘Don’t you know?’ asked Sam, turning the question back on her, and, realising she couldn’t go on conducting this conversation in the presence of an audience, Ally made a decision.
‘I’m coming home,’ she said, uncaring that Jennifer sucked in an indignant breath behind her. ‘I’ll be with you in fifteen minutes.’
As luck would have it, Andy Jedburgh was out of the office that morning. Ignoring Jennifer’s shrill warning that he wouldn’t like her leaving without finishing the salary spreadsheets, Ally forced her unsteady legs to carry her across the car park to where she’d left her second-hand Mini. It only took her a few minutes to reach the small house in Penrose Terrace that she shared with her daughter, and Sam opened the door as she walked up the path.
‘Hey,’ she exclaimed, as Ally pushed past her into the house. ‘I’m sorry if I gave you a shock.’ She viewed her mother’s retreating back with some concern. ‘I thought you’d want to know that he was here.’
Ally shook her head, going straight down the narrow hall to the small kitchen, filling the kettle and plugging it in before answering her. Then, when she was sure she could face Sam without betraying how she really felt, she turned and said tightly, ‘What did he want? Did he say why he’d come?’ And then, less surely, ‘Is he coming back?’
Sam looked anxious. ‘I think you ought to sit down and have a cup of tea first, Mum,’ she said, trying to be helpful. ‘You look so pale.’
‘I’m all right.’
‘You’re not all right.’ Sam sighed. ‘Do you want to tell me what’s going on?’
‘I don’t know what’s—’ Ally started to make some excuse, but, if he was really here, her daughter deserved at least part of the truth. ‘Honestly, Sam, I never thought I’d ever see Raul again.’
‘Raul?’ Sam looked puzzled for a moment. Then her face cleared. ‘Oh, right. That’s what you call him, is it?’
‘It’s what everybody calls him, except his parents,’ said Ally steadily and Sam’s eyes went wide.
‘Oh, wow! You’ve met his parents!’
‘Well, yes.’ Ally was afraid her daughter was getting totally the wrong impression. ‘But it’s not what you think. I only met them because they’re friends of Suzanne and Peter.’
‘So did Aunt Suzanne introduce you?’
‘No.’ Ally drew her lower lip between her teeth, trying to think of an appropriate response. ‘I—we—met at the hotel in London. Before I flew out.’
‘I see.’ Sam digested this. ‘So is he the man you’ve been seeing while you were away?’ Her expression was incredulous. ‘God, Mum, no wonder you were so cagey about him!’
‘Why?’ Ally stared at her daughter. ‘Because he’s so much younger than me?’ she demanded, and Sam’s cheeks turned a little pink.
‘No—’
‘You don’t need to lie, Sam.’
‘I’m not lying.’ Sam drew a breath. ‘Honestly, Mum. His age has nothing to do with it. What is he? A couple of years younger than you? That’s nothing nowadays.’
‘Then—’
‘Oh, come on, Mum.’ Sam was uncomfortable. ‘I mean, you are attractive. And that tan you acquired in San Cristobál really brings out the green in your eyes. Even the streaks in your hair—well, you should have had them done years ago. But—but—’
‘I’m not the kind of woman to attract a man like Raul Ramirez? Is that what you’re saying?’
‘Sort of.’ Sam’s face was red. ‘Help me out here, Mum. Are you saying he really is interested in you?’
‘I don’t know.’ Even now, Ally couldn’t admit it. Turning away, she busied herself by setting out two cups and taking a carton of milk from the fridge. ‘What did he say?’
‘What did he say?’ Sam repeated the words, clearly trying to remember. ‘Well, he wanted to see you, obviously. He asked where you were and I told him you were at work.’
‘Just like that?’ Ally glanced over her shoulder. ‘A strange man comes to the door and asks you where I am and you tell him?’
‘No. Not like that,’ exclaimed Sam defensively. ‘He knew who I was. When I opened the door, he said “You must be Sam”, or something like that, and he disarmed me.’
‘He does that.’ Ally bent her head over the teabags. ‘Then what?’
‘Oh—’ Sam tried to think. ‘He asked if I would tell you he was here, in England, and that you—you could reach him at the Post House if you wanted to speak to him.’
‘The Post House?’ Ally swung round. ‘Is that what he said?’
‘Yes.’ Sam moistened her lips. ‘Are—are you going to see him?’
Ally expelled a breath. ‘I don’t know.’
Sam gasped. ‘What’s not to know? Either you are or you aren’t?’ Her brows drew together. ‘Hey, does Dad know about him?’
‘Why do you ask?’
‘Just something he said.’
Ally felt a twinge of apprehension. ‘What? What did he say?’
‘Oh, Mum.’ Sam shook her head. ‘I can’t remember everything everybody says.’ She considered. ‘I don’t know. I didn’t take much notice of it at the time. I just thought he was being grumpy because you’d refused to take him back.’
‘How grumpy?’
Sam sighed. ‘Well, he said something about you making a fool of him. That he shouldn’t have believed you when you insisted that you weren’t involved with anyone else.’
Ally’s lips parted in dismay. ‘So why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Oh, right.’ Sam was sardonic. ‘What was there to tell, Mum? He didn’t mention any names. He just said he wished he’d told Aunt Suzanne what a liar you are. I was hardly likely to tell you that. As a matter of fact, I warned him not to make those kind of allegations about you. As far as I knew you weren’t seriously seeing anyone else.’
‘And I’m not,’ said Ally swiftly. ‘Oh, Sam, you don’t think he could have phoned Suzanne, do you?’
‘What if he did?’ Sam was confused. ‘Why would it matter? Aunt Suzanne has nothing to do with this.’
‘She does!’ Ally was distraught. ‘Oh, Sam, Raul is Julia’s boyfriend. Suzanne and Peter are expecting them to get engaged soon.’
Sam’s jaw dropped. ‘You’re kidding!’
‘No, I’m not.’
‘But he must be years older than Julia.’
‘Not that much,’ said Ally flatly. ‘It’s less than the difference there is between Raul and me. He’s only twenty-nine, Sam. I’m nearly ten years older than he is.’
Sam studied her mother’s face. ‘And that matters to you?’
‘Doesn’t it matter to you?’ countered Ally, and Sam lifted her arms to clasp the back of her neck with both hands.
‘Me?’ she echoed. ‘Why should it bother me?’ She blinked. ‘Are you saying there is something between you?’
Ally shook her head. ‘I don’t know what to think any more.’
Sam tried to understand what her mother was saying. ‘Let me get this straight,’ she said carefully. ‘How does Dad know about it—if indeed he does?’
‘Oh—he saw us together,’ answered Ally wearily. ‘I was on my way to tell Suzanne that I was leaving when Raul intercepted me in the—in the lobby.’
‘And what?’ Sam’s eyes wer
e wide. ‘Was Raul kissing you or—’
‘Nothing like that,’ exclaimed Ally, her own face burning now. ‘We were just—talking, that’s all.’
Sam’s arms dropped to her sides. ‘And Dad could tell from that that you and this Raul were having an affair?’ She made a disbelieving gesture. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘All right.’ With some misgivings, Ally gave her daughter a brief description of the events that had precipitated Raul’s attack on Jeff. ‘So now you see it isn’t as unlikely as it sounds.’
‘Hey.’ Sam couldn’t prevent an illicit giggle. ‘And I thought you led such a boring life. I bet Daddy didn’t like that.’
‘He didn’t.’ Ally nodded her agreement. ‘That was when I knew I had to get him out of the hotel. If he’d told Suzanne…’
‘Do you think he has?’ asked Sam suddenly. ‘Do you think that’s why this Raul has come here? Because his relationship with Julia is off?’
Ally didn’t want to believe it, but it had the ring of truth about it. ‘I hope not,’ she said, squashing the germ of hope that had seeded in her belly when she’d thought Raul had been prepared to tell Julia the truth rather than let her go. But that was foolish, she conceded unhappily. It had been three weeks since she’d left the island. Much too long for Raul to make up his own mind.
‘What do you mean, you hope not?’ Sam asked now. ‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’ve been getting the distinct impression that you—that you care about this man. Don’t you care if he marries someone else?’
‘It’s nothing to do with me.’ Ally refused to discuss the Davises’ problems with her daughter.
‘You wish.’ Sam stared at her. ‘Are you peeved because you think Dad may have spilled the beans to Aunt Suzanne?’
It was easier to let Sam think that. ‘Perhaps,’ said Ally, amazed that her hand was steady enough to make the tea. She set the cups and milk on a tray to carry into the living room. ‘I’d better have this and then get back to work.’
‘But—’ Sam was incredulous. ‘Aren’t you going to ring— Raul?’
‘I don’t think so,’ said Ally carefully, lifting the tray and brushing past her daughter. ‘Don’t look at me like that, Sam. I know what I’m doing. As you said before, men like Raul Ramirez don’t get seriously involved with women like me.’
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
WHICH was all well and good, but Ally found it incredibly hard to justify her decision to herself during the long afternoon that followed. Whatever had brought Raul to England—and she couldn’t believe he’d travelled all this way just to see her—it would still have been good to see him again.
So good, she mused wistfully, grateful when the clock on the office wall crawled round to five o’clock and she could leave. Coming back to England, having to deal with Jeff’s thwarted ambitions, even returning to work and the day-today routine she was used to, had helped to assuage the anguish she’d felt when she’d left San Cristobál, but it hadn’t lasted. As each succeeding week went by, it got harder and harder to sleep at night. Images of herself and Raul together, their naked bodies hot and sweaty from the heat of their lovemaking, dampened her body and quickened her pulse. Some nights they totally refused to be dislodged and the memory of how he’d looked when she’d sent him away was a constant torment.
Of course, she’d believed that she’d never have the chance to see him again. She’d assumed that, whatever they’d shared, he would eventually marry Julia and produce the grandchildren his parents craved. She guessed he’d think that she and Jeff would get back together again, too. That, however much she’d denied it, the fact that she’d taken her ex-husband’s part over his, was proof that she hadn’t meant what she said.
But now all her preconceived ideas of the future had been thrown into confusion. She didn’t know what was happening any more and, despite what she’d said to Sam, the temptation to see him just one more time was almost irresistible.
There was a note from her daughter waiting for her when she got home. Ally was aware that her hands were trembling as she picked it up, but it wasn’t about Raul. Sam merely said that she’d be working until seven o’clock and then she was going to her fiancé’s home for supper. She didn’t know what time she’d be back, she’d added, but Ally shouldn’t wait up. Mark would see she got home safely whatever time it was.
Ally gave a rueful sigh. Lucky Sam, she thought wryly. Her daughter was so sure about her future. There’d be no unplanned pregnancies for her; no marriage based on need rather than love.
She dropped the note again and turned away. So she had the evening to herself. She was disappointed, really. She had hoped Sam would come home after she finished at the restaurant. She’d wanted to talk to her; to ask her more about Raul, if she was honest. But Sam evidently thought her mother had said all she was going to say and had decided to leave the subject of her relationship with Raul alone.
Tactful, Ally supposed gloomily. She had been rather impatient about it at lunchtime and she had only herself to blame if her daughter had taken her at her word.
Compellingly, the thought of Raul, dining alone at the Post House Hotel, popped into her head. She wondered what he was doing at this moment, whether he’d taken the chance to explore the city or was sitting in his room, waiting for her to call.
He’d wait a long time, she told herself fiercely. How could she call him? How could he expect her to pick up the phone and speak to him as if his turning up here in Newcastle was a perfectly natural thing for him to do? She wasn’t like him; he knew that. Therefore he should know that she was too practical—too old—to play fast and loose with other people’s lives.
Yet he was here…
She forced that thought back into the recesses of her mind, trying to tell herself that she mustn’t fall into the trap of believing he had come all this way just to see her. He wouldn’t have. He couldn’t have.
So why was he here?
Ally dropped her coat over the back of a chair and made her way upstairs. She was not going to think about it any more, she decided. All she was doing was tearing away the small veneer of normality she’d achieved during the past three weeks. All right, she didn’t sleep well and she suffered a lot of stress, but eventually—eventually—she would be able to put all this behind her. She had to. She had to.
She paused in front of the mirror in her bedroom. God, she looked a mess, she thought. The highlights in her hair were beginning to fade, and if she wasn’t careful she’d begin to see herself as she was before she went to San Cristobál. Even her face was pale, and the flattering suntan she had acquired on the island had lost its glow.
Shaking her head, she turned away, and as she did so, an idea occurred to her: perhaps she ought to agree to see Raul, after all. Here, without the deceptive trappings of sophistication her holiday had given her, he would see her as she really was. Not the sun-tanned temptress he’d pretended she represented, but a harassed housewife, with little claim to either sophistication or beauty.
She swallowed the sudden constriction she felt in her throat. The idea of ringing Raul and arranging to meet him at some neutral location was terrifying. Despite what she kept telling herself, she was very much afraid that if she did see him again, she wouldn’t be able to hide how she felt about him. And it would be too humiliating if she gave herself away…
She couldn’t do it. Knowing herself for a coward, Ally went into the bathroom and turned on the taps. Then, going downstairs again, she rescued the solitary bottle of German white from the fridge, opening it and collecting a glass before going back upstairs again.
She wished she could get drunk, she thought miserably, stripping off her clothes before stepping into the tub. That way she might be able to silence the clamouring voices in her head that warned her this might be her last chance for happiness.
She was on her third glass of wine when the doorbell rang.
Determining to ignore it, Ally nestled down into the foamy water, only to feel a twinge of anxiety when the
bell rang for a second time. Damn, she thought uneasily. Had she left her key in the lock? She remembered locking the door as she came in, but she didn’t remember taking the key out of the lock again. Both Sam and Ryan had keys, of course, but they couldn’t use them if her key was still in the lock.
She hesitated only a moment longer before putting down her glass and getting out of the bath. Then, wrapping a towel sarongwise beneath her arms, she opened the bathroom door and went to the top of the stairs. From there, she could see the front door with her key sticking plainly out of the lock. But, by the light of the street lamp outside, she could also see the unmistakable silhouette of a man, and her pulse began to race.
It was Raul. She knew it. The silhouette was much too tall for either Ryan or Sam’s fiancé, and even as she stood there, frozen to the spot, he rattled the letterbox and called, ‘Ally! I know you’re in there. Your car’s parked outside.’
Ally blinked, wondering how he had known that it was her car. He didn’t know what kind of car she drove. Unless…unless Sam had told him…
The possible implications of the note her daughter had left her were suddenly clear. She had been wrong to think that Sam had accepted her decision. Her daughter, who knew her almost as well as she knew herself, had immediately done what she herself had been afraid to do: she had rung Raul.
Realising she couldn’t pretend any longer, Ally called, ‘I’ll be right down,’ and scurried back into the bathroom.
Another glance at her reflection was no more reassuring than it had been before. She’d washed her hair, but, although it was clean, it was still wet. Shedding the bath-towel, she replaced it with her woollen dressing gown and, going into the bedroom, she skewered her hair on top of her head with a tortoiseshell clip. Then, without giving herself time to have second thoughts, she pushed her feet into heelless mules and went quickly down the stairs.
A draught of cold air enveloped her as she opened the door, and she shivered. But she knew the feathering of her spine owed more to the man who was waiting on her doorstep, one hand raised to support himself against the wall, than to the chilling wind. She’d never seen him in an overcoat before, the grey cashmere parting to reveal black mole-skin trousers and a turtle-necked grey sweater.
