by Gloria Cook
Justine turned to Susan. ‘Would you like to hold her? Maudie, give her to Mrs Harvey.’
Maudie Oliver obeyed quickly, giving Susan no choice but to take the baby. Susan wrapped it in a secure hold. ‘She weighs nothing at all. She was obviously premature. Her skin’s very dry and she hasn’t got any eyebrows yet.’
Mark shot Faye a worried glance then turned to his wife. He gestured with outspread hands. ‘Justine, what’s this all about? Whose baby is this? Why have you brought her here?’
Faye realized the truth of the situation – it wasn’t only Mark about to receive a tremendous shock. She understood why the baby had been offloaded on to Susan. She felt her body stiffen as Justine said, in a dry quivering voice, ‘She’s ours, Mark. Yours and mine.’
‘What?’ Mark gasped. ‘Did I hear right?’
‘Afraid so.’ Justine’s gaze hit the floor.
Mark wasn’t sure if this was actually happening. He shut his eyes, but when he opened them again everything was in the same place. He paced up and down the room with his hand rubbing the back of his neck. He glanced at the baby, then at Faye, who was rigid in expression. Then he marched up to Justine. ‘Why on earth didn’t you tell me you were pregnant? This changes everything.’
‘No, it doesn’t.’ She met his horror with resolution.
‘Of course it does. We can’t go through with the divorce now.’
‘Mark, please listen to me and take this in. I didn’t tell you because rearing a child is not what I want. You were still recovering from your ordeal, but I knew you’d insist on doing the decent thing. I was going to have the baby adopted, but at the last moment I couldn’t bring myself to go through with it. You’re her father. You have the right to decide if you want to bring her up.’
Mark referred to Faye again. She tossed her head away. It wasn’t really her business, but it hurt to learn he had made love to Justine under her roof. And now Justine was here in her home, giving her baby away, already cutting herself off from the poor, helpless, tiny thing, and it sickened her. Suddenly, Faye was furious this had been brought to her door. Did these people think she had no feelings? She was weary and angry at being used.
Her grimness unsettled Mark, and he too was angry with Justine. ‘You just can’t walk away from your own child! You’re her mother, for goodness sake.’
‘I’m sorry, Mark, I really am, please believe that. But I just can’t do it. I’ve tried to love her, to bond with her, but I feel nothing. I’ve not got a maternal bone in my body. She was born six weeks premature and she’s now four weeks old. I haven’t given her a name. I didn’t want to think of her with an identity. If you decide to take her you can register her with the names you choose. I’m so sorry about all this Mark. It’s better that I never see her again.’
‘Of course I’ll take her!’ Mark pointed at Justine in accusation. ‘I’d never turn my back on my responsibilities. I’m sure I’ll soon learn to love her. I’ll have to make a lot of changes in my life. Dear God, I can’t believe this is happening. You’ll help me, of course, won’t you, Faye?’ He’d flung the question over his shoulder and it made Faye fume. Mark seemed to think she was nothing more than a stopgap. How dare he take her for granted! He had not even bothered to look at her and enter a discussion. ‘No! No, I won’t. I’ve got my own son to think about. I’m not just good old Faye, reliable and easy to put upon. Justine, you’re a selfish bitch. Mark, you can work out things for yourself. Excuse me.’ With her head up, she stalked out of the room.
She strode through the house and out of the back door. Coming towards her was Fergus, and he was holding Simon’s hand and chatting to him. Simon was gazing up at him keenly. Their mutual affection was distinct. ‘Oh, look, it’s Mummy come to meet us. Hello, Faye,’ Fergus called to her. ‘I saw Simon in the farmyard and thought you wouldn’t mind me bringing him to you.’ He saw her dark anguished expression and, picking Simon up, hurried to her. ‘Are you all right?’
Fergus cared how she was. She ran to him and Simon. ‘No, I’m not, but I’m all the better for seeing you.’
Chapter Nineteen
Mark walked home finding it hard to believe he was pushing a pram - Simon’s old carriage pram; Faye had at least loaned him this - and that his own baby was tucked up in it. He was afraid, in a cold sweat, and he felt so alone. This morning he had woken up with a purposeful future to look forward to. Last week he had asked Jim Killigrew to meet him in the pub for a drink. He had bought two whiskies and led the way to a quiet corner. Took out his cigarettes, offered one to Jim and lit them both. ‘I’d like to talk to you about your business, Jim,’ he’d said.
‘Oh?’ Jim had come back cautiously. It was in his nature to be wary and sometimes surly.
‘I’ll come straight to the point. Please hear me out. I enjoyed doing the renovations on Rose Dew, and now I’m planning to do something in the building world, not in opposition to you, I hasten to add. You’ve mentioned you’ve got more work than you can handle and are thinking of taking on more men. Your business is thriving and you have a respected reputation, and I’m hoping you might consider allowing me to put money into it, to form a partnership with me. If you want to expand and be competitive you’ll achieve it better that way, without a bank loan. I think we could work well together. OK, you’d have a partner, but you would make much more profit and there would be even more for your children to inherit. Will you at least consider it?’
Jim had stared at him then stared into space as if picturing the benefits and the disadvantages of the proposition. He drew in on his cigarette and blew out the smoke. ‘So you’re staying on in Hennaford for good.’
‘That is my intention. I feel I belong here.’
Jim narrowed his eyes. ‘And if I’m not interested you definitely wouldn’t set up in opposition?’
‘You have my word. I’d look further afield.’
‘If you hadn’t said that I would have told you to go to hell. As it is, I’ll say it’s worth thinking about. I’ll talk to Alan. It concerns him too. And let Martha have her say. My wife will want to pray on it. I’ll also consult Tristan Harvey. He’s always been good enough to advise me. I’ll get back to you in a few days.’
Jim had kept his word, and on his way to Coose-Craze this morning he had stopped off and said the partnership could go ahead. Mark had been about to go to Tremore to pass on the good news, when Faye had turned up saying Justine was to arrive. His prospects had been raised, and then his world turned upside down in a few short hours. The business partnership might have to be put on hold. At the very least he had to sort out care for his baby.
My baby. My daughter. It sounded so strange. He had got used to having young children around him, but he was a stranger to the care of babies. He was scared. She was tiny. He might hurt her. He had stayed in Tremore House long enough for Susan to show him how to make up a bottle of babies National Dried milk and give the baby a feed. Then how to change her nappy and undress and dress her in some of the clothes from the holdall Justine had brought with her. Susan had written out a list of a baby’s routine and the things it was vital he should do, to boil the bottles to ensure they were sterile and soak the nappies, and so much more. He beat down the panic rising inside him. What if he did everything wrong and the baby got sick? What if he couldn’t stop her from crying? Seeking reassurance, he halted to pat Addi, dutifully close at his side. ‘How on earth are we going to manage, boy?’
Susan had said she would call later in the day and that gave him some encouragement, and tomorrow she was going to Truro to buy all the things the baby would need, but it hurt him that Faye had refused his request to stay at Tremore at least for tonight. She’d said a baby in the house would unsettle the children. He had seen that it certainly would have unsettled her. He was cross with himself for not realizing she had been in some sort of turmoil, making her snap and storm out of her house. He had presumed too much. It had been wrong of him, but it still hurt that she could reject him so easily.
> It was hard pushing the pram up the uneven track towards home. The baby started to cry. Mark’s guts twisted in painful knots. What was the matter with her? What should he do? ‘Shush, shush there.’
His new neighbour in Little Dell, Valerie Pascoe, a young mother, who cleaned for him twice a week, paused while picking her washing off the line and stared at him in astonishment. Here could be the answer to some of his problems. ‘Mrs Pascoe! Could you help me, please?’
She came hurrying. ‘Have you really got a baby in there, Mr Fuller? Upon my word, you have! How come?’ Her friendly peasant face gleamed with amazement. She pulled at the line of curls on her homely brow while he explained. Valerie, in paisley apron and turban, declared, ‘Well, finding out you’re a father is wonderful, isn’t it? I can see it’s left you in a bit of a predicament. I’ll carry her up to the house for you. She didn’t like the bumping she was getting, bless her dear little soul. No wonder she’s bawling her little lungs out. I’ll stay and get her settled.’
‘Thanks, Mrs Pascoe, you’re a godsend.’ The baby fell quiet when Valerie was cradling her and rocking her gently in her able arms. ‘I’d be very grateful if you could come in every day from now on, except for weekends, of course, and care for her when I go out.’
‘I’d be delighted to.’
Mark expelled deep breath after deep breath. ‘I’ll always be in your debt. I’m sure I’ll be turning to you regularly for advice.’ He found it easier to drag the pram up the slope rather than push it. He gazed across at the tiny features of his child, his daughter. She was making faces and bubbles were forming on her bow lips. Words drifted into his mind. Fairy child. Angel. Cherub. A miracle. And she was his. He had held her in his arms at Tremore, clumsily holding the curved glass bottle of warm milk to her lips in a state of disbelief and terror at how insubstantial she was. Justine didn’t love her. Couldn’t love her. Could he? A new emotion began to build up inside him. A fierce desire to nurture and protect her. It reassured him he had made the right decision to take her on. He was going to get the help he needed, but he had a few nerve-wracking days ahead.
* * *
‘Are you all right, darling?’ Fergus asked from the doorway of Faye’s bedroom. She was sitting on the double bed, her hands stretched out either side of her and pressed down on the eiderdown, her head hung over.
She looked up. ‘Just a bit deflated. Silly, really. Come in, Fergus.’
He did so, standing about with his hands in his pockets so as not to crowd her. The events of the day had brought her down, leached her confidence, which, except for the happy times she had spent with him at Glenladen, she had never known in abundance. He was a heel for sending her away, letting her cope with motherhood alone. Every time he thought about Simon, he thanked God she’d had the courage to keep him. Faye was wonderful and amazing. She should have every blessing there was to be had. But life had served her another rotten trick. He could tell she was now racked with guilt for refusing to support Mark Fuller, even though everyone had stressed they understood her point of view and that Fuller hadn’t been left to cope alone. It was tough and unfair that the gorgeous woman he loved was suffering because of the selfishness of others yet again. He must try to get her to open up to him. ‘Are the children all asleep?’
‘Yes. The girls chattered on as usual but I haven’t heard a squeak out of them for about ten minutes.’ Faye was weary and drained and wanted only to curl up and sleep.
‘Tristan and Susan have taken a walk over to Ford Farm. Would you like to do anything in particular?’
‘Not really.’
‘You look so miserable, darling.’ He went close to her, resisting the urge to touch her, which he longed to do. ‘Are you regretting agreeing to become my wife? You seemed eager about it this afternoon. Have you changed your mind about having the wedding in Glenladen’s kirk? We can do anything you say. I only want you to be happy. I hope you know that.’ If she asked him to, he’d give up Glenladen and pass it on to his son, Donald. He would tell her this, but he was afraid it might put more pressure on her.
‘I know, Fergus,’ she sighed. ‘It’s nothing to do with you.’
He was heartily relieved to hear that. Carefully, he sat down beside her. ‘This business with Mark Fuller has upset you.’
‘I shouldn’t have been so hard. I saw red and took it out on him. He must have had a terrible shock and been frightened by his sudden new responsibility. Of course he would ask for my help. I’ll go and see him tomorrow and explain. Mark’s a really good person, I’m sure he’ll understand.’ Fergus put his arm round her and she leaned against him, needing his closeness. ‘The thing was, I felt he and Justine were thinking, “Good old Faye, she’ll come to the rescue.” I wasn’t asked for my opinion. I felt unimportant. And I’d like my little boy to be important to others. Simon has been shunned and overlooked because I’m not married. I know I’m being oversensitive, but I can’t wait for us to get away from here.’
‘I’m sorry you’ve had a bad time, darling. You and Simon are very important to me, everything, in fact.’ Fergus hugged her tightly, wanting to erase all her painful memories.
Although the full meaning behind his words were lost to her, it meant everything to her to hear them. He comforted her in a way no one else could. She needed him as much as Simon needed to have his father in his life. If Fergus hadn’t come when he did, the future would be empty and frightening for both of them. As for Mark, she finally had her feelings for him in perspective. Today’s happening had wiped out all her hopes for him. Rescuing him and nursing him had filled her with romantic notions. She had been looking for someone to love and to have love her back. It had been just infatuation, leaving her feeling stupid to have been hankering after him. ‘Knowing you care about us is what’s kept me going. Simon will love Glenladen. I was worried about taking him away from his playmates here, but children adapt quickly wherever they are as long as they feel secure. The twins and Pearl will be fine with Uncle Tris and Susan and Maureen, my going won’t make much difference to them really, so I can leave here without regret. We’ll all have a good life together, Fergus. I’m so glad you came.’ She held on to him and buried her face in his shoulder. Fergus made her feel safe and wanted. She was confident he would help her forget all the awful things that had ever happened, and create the better ways that would enable her to go on.
They stayed quietly for some time. She felt warm and cared for. One of the best things about Fergus was how sensitive he was. He was good company, the best of company. She couldn’t imagine now why she had left it so long to decide to marry him. He had his head leaning lightly on hers and was tracing gentle fingertips on her upper arm. She closed her eyes to enjoy the soft, pleasurable sensations. It was a pleasure being with him; it always was. She had been too absorbed in her worries for Simon, how her leaving would affect the Smiths, and her yearning and disappointment over Mark, to concentrate how it was with Fergus. He was a wonderful man, and except for laying his priority to duty when she had told him she was having his baby, he had not hurt her in any other way. He adored Simon and gave him all his attention, as he did to her. He was sensuous in his powerful masculinity and his tactile loving ways and his sense of fun, and in these quiet moments, she was moved by him as strongly as when they had formed their deep attraction and need for each other in his draughty old castle.
He kissed her silky black hair in several places. ‘I can’t wait to take you and Simon up to Glenladen and introduce you to the estate as my future wife and Simon to his brothers and sister. I’ll make sure you have a contented family life, darling Faye.’
‘I know you will,’ she sighed dreamily, easing into a soothing sense of security, something she had not known since she’d had to leave him. She trusted Fergus. Only he could make her feel this way.
‘I brought something down with me in the hope you’d say yes, darling. My great-grandmother’s engagement ring. You admired it in her portrait, and it will be perfect for you.’ While keepi
ng her in his arms, he produced a tiny dark blue velvet box and lifted up the lid. ‘I hope it’s a good fit.’
Faye gazed at the square-cut sapphire and diamond cluster ring. How wonderful he was to remember this detail. During their affair she had dreamed she might become his wife, but now it was to be a reality. She grew as excited as any other young woman to be getting engaged, and she was thrilled to be feeling this normal reaction. ‘You put it on my finger, Fergus.’
When he had done so he kissed the ring, kissed her hand, then kissed her lips. ‘I’ll make you happy, darling, I promise.’ He wanted to tell her he was in love with her, but sensed it wasn’t the right time, and he left her to her simple joy.
‘The three of us will be happy,’ she said. ‘And I’m looking forward to serving those on the estate. The first people I will call on are Mr and Mrs McPherson.’ She stroked Fergus’s face. ‘Thank you.’
‘What for?’
‘For coming down to us. For giving Simon and me a worthwhile future. For being you,’ she whispered softly.
‘I’ll never let you go again, Faye.’ He lowered his head to kiss her lips.
He kissed her warmly and tenderly, then couldn’t help himself and ran away with a little passion. He pulled back, afraid to rush her. But Faye had enjoyed all the amazing sensations of the kiss and wanted more. It was easy to give way to desire with Fergus, and she’d no longer deny herself the joys and ecstasy of being with him. She sought his lips with hunger. Sighing for her, he let himself go over her eager mouth, and all their old ardour fired into life, and they gave themselves over to a blissful journey of rediscovery. ‘Don’t worry about being careful,’ she whispered. ‘What does it matter if we have another baby now?’
The struggles of the last few years were over for her. When replete and exhausted in his arms, she had the contentment of knowing she was doing the right thing for Simon, and for herself.
