“Move out?” Her heart was thundering.
“Yes.” He was looking at her intently. “Did you think I was going to keep you here forever?”
“It’s your home.”
“It was. My home is with you, Jade. We’ve never had a home of our own, have we? A place where we can be alone? That’s another thing we might start shopping for soon. You’d better start thinking about what sort of house you want. Why are you looking at me like that?”
She didn’t know how she was looking, but she felt a quite strange combination of a cautious happiness mingled with, perhaps, a kind of trepidation. Buying a home together would be a confirmation of their commitment to the future. A future that they would work out alone together, without the constraints of the presence of his family and other people in the same house. “I think that would be a good idea,” she said inadequately.
Later, when he took her into his arms, she found herself responding to him without the familiar small ache of resentment that had previously marred the undoubted pleasure his lovemaking brought her.
Perhaps, she thought afterwards, listening to his steady breathing as she lay wakeful in the darkness, that was a hopeful sign.
* * *
Laurence and Andrew arrived home for the holidays. Laurence was a husky young man, broader and considerably more mature than the gangly sixteen-year-old she had first met here at Waititapu. Andrew had been a grubby-faced twelve-year-old then; now he was a handsome teenager sporting a dashing haircut and topping Jade’s height by several inches.
Andrew’s greeting was a casual “Hi, Jade. Glad you’re back.” And Laurence kissed her cheek and smiled down at her, but with a hint of reserve. Whether he was recalling his youthful infatuation or had been regaled by his twin sister with the story of Jade’s supposed infidelity, she couldn’t ask. Perhaps both were causes for embarrassment.
The day after their arrival, Magnus said at breakfast, “I’m going to Auckland this afternoon to meet a client. I won’t have a lot of spare time, but anyone who wants a couple of hours in the city is welcome to come with me.”
Laurence wanted to go, and Jade said, “I’d like to visit Annie.”
“At the hospital?” Magnus enquired.
“No, she’s living in a house in the city. I saw her last time I was in Auckland.”
“You never mentioned it.”
She’d told him about seeing Lida, and it hadn’t seemed the time to mention Annie. She shrugged.
“How is she?” he asked.
“She was fine. Hoping that this time she’ll be able to stay out of hospital.”
“Great. I’ll drop you off there, then, before I go to my appointment. So, Laurence, where do you want to go?”
Laurence was planning to look at a cheap computer deal he’d seen advertised, with an eye to running a new farm management program on it. While they discussed its possible advantages, Jade slipped out of the room. She knocked on the door of Mrs. Riordan’s room, and went in. “Magnus is taking Laurence and me to Auckland this afternoon,” she said. “Is there anything you’d like me to get for you?”
“If I need anything, Ginette can get it, or take me shopping with her,” Mrs. Riordan said. She was sitting in her wheelchair today, staring out of the window at the sea view. Ginette was still in the dining-room. Following her gaze, Jade said, “You never go as far as the beach, do you? I’m sure we could help get you there, if you wanted—”
“Thank you, I have no desire to go to the beach.”
“I see,” Jade said quietly. “I’m sorry if I’ve intruded on your privacy.”
As she made to leave, the imperious voice said, “Wait, Jade!”
She turned enquiringly, and Mrs. Riordan glared at her for a moment or two. Then she said stiffly, “For all your faults, you’re a kindhearted girl. And too easily hurt.”
It was probably the nearest thing to an apology she was likely to get, Jade thought. “It’s all right. I wasn’t taking offence.”
“No, you don’t, do you?” Mrs. Riordan said thoughtfully. “Perhaps you should have when you first came here.” She added, “I know you pitied me. I hated that most of all.”
“I’m sorry about that.” Jade was astonished at the admission. “But it would hardly have helped if I’d shouted at you.”
“Did you want to?”
“Sometimes,” Jade said cautiously.
“You hid it well. I decided you had no character at all.”
“Did you?” Jade smiled faintly. “You were wrong.”
Mrs. Riordan gave her a penetrating stare. “Magnus is a strong character. He doesn’t tolerate weakness well.”
“Maybe he’s learned to,” Jade dared to suggest. When she married him, she would have agreed with that assessment. She’d known that he admired her strength, her practicality. It was why she’d hidden from him any sign of frailty, any hint that the burden of helping him care for his home, his business, his family, was more than she could bear. She hadn’t wanted to disappoint him in any way.
Face it, she’d been afraid that he would love her less.
“Maybe he has,” Mrs. Riordan said. “He must be extremely fond of you.”
Jade smiled again at the grudging puzzlement in her voice. “I hope so.”
“I would never have thought Magnus would tolerate—”
She broke off as Ginette breezed into the room. Just as well, perhaps, Jade thought grimly. She turned. “I’ll leave you, then. Let me know if you think of anything you want.”
* * *
Annie answered the door herself, enveloping Jade in an enthusiastic hug. “It’s great to see you again. You’re looking better than ever.”
“So are you!” Jade eyed Annie’s hair, newly cut in a becoming bob that showed up its fiery thickness and made the most of the curl. “That looks terrific! And the clothes, too—”
Annie grinned, preening ostentatiously. She was wearing a pair of jeans that hugged her rounded behind, and a silk-look shirt casually tied at her waist, instead of one of the shapeless, too-long dresses that Jade was accustomed to. “I’m trying to impress my new shrink. He’s quite dishy. A vast improvement on old Half-Specs Turton. Said he’d be here this afternoon.”
“If I’ve picked a bad time—”
“No! A couple of hours or so, you said? He isn’t due until four. Come and say hello to the others, and then we’ll go to my room.”
There were two other women and two men in the house, all of whom Jade had met on her previous visit, and she stopped briefly in the big lounge to greet them.
“You’re still having therapy, then?” Jade asked as Annie led the way to her room.
“Once a week we have a visiting therapist to conduct a group session. And we can request a private session if we want.” Annie rolled her eyes. “I want!”
“Apart from being ‘dishy,’” Jade said, amused, “is he any good?”
“I reckon! He’s just got back from two years’ study overseas, catching up with the latest methods. And he talks to us about them, even asks our opinion. He reckons we know more than some of the doctors about our own problems, and we should have some say in our treatment. This guy treats us like human beings.”
Impressed, Jade said, “He sounds brilliant.”
“He is. I think I scared him a bit last time, though.” Annie grinned. “Showed him a poem I’d written about him.”
Astonished, Jade said, “I didn’t know you wrote poetry!”
“I don’t—I mean, I didn’t. Only he reckons it’s ‘a healing exercise’ to write down your thoughts and feelings, whether it’s poetry or letters or just a private journal that you never show anyone. So I thought, what the heck, why not a poem? Anyway, when I showed it to him he got all very solemn and pink and said something about people developing a dependency on a therapist, ‘specially one of the opposite sex, and it was normal but of course not to be taken seriously. And then he said he doubted I was in need of therapy any more, anyway. He reckoned I seemed perfec
tly sane to him—so how about that?“
“I’d agree,” Jade said, taking a seat on the only chair as Annie bounced onto the bed. “I don’t believe there’s anything wrong with you.”
“Aw, shucks!” Annie put on a gloomy clown face. “I suppose I could say I’m the Queen of Sheba—or how about this?” She dropped her jaw, crossed her eyes and nodded her head idiotically. “Think that might convince him?”
Jade laughed. “Maybe. But it would hardly attract him, if that’s what you want to do!”
Annie reverted to herself. “Guess I might as well give up. What professional psychotherapist is going to ever get involved with a professional psycho?”
“They’re not supposed to, ethically speaking, are they?” Jade suggested.
“I s’pose not. And Patrick’d never do anything unethical—”
“Patrick?”
“He doesn’t like to be called Pat. Or Paddy. Y’know, he’s not really my type—” Annie broke off. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” Jade swallowed, the racing pulse in her temple beginning to steady. She tried to concentrate her thoughts. “Did he work at the hospital before he went overseas?”
“No, never. He had his own private practice somewhere, I think. Why? You don’t know him, do you?”
Jade shook her head. “I don’t think so.” There must be dozens—perhaps hundreds—of men called Patrick in Auckland. It didn’t mean a thing. “What’s his last name?”
“Um—Cowley.” Annie looked at her enquiringly.
Patrick Cowley. Did it have an echo of familiarity? Jade wasn’t sure. She shook her head but couldn’t help asking, “What does he look like?”
“Well, actually,” Annie said, cocking her head, “he isn’t a real knockout. Not like your Magnus. Brown hair, blue eyes—kind eyes. Glasses. He’s just...nice. If you stay till he arrives you can meet him, later. Anyway—” she leaned over and tapped Jade’s knee “—tell me how things are with you.”
* * *
Just after three-thirty Magnus rang the doorbell, and Annie dragged him in to meet her flatmates. He shook hands with them all and chatted for a few minutes before saying, “We’d better be going. I told Laurence we’d pick him up at about four.”
“Can’t you stay a bit longer?” Annie begged. “There’s someone I’d like Jade to meet.” She winked at Jade, pretending not to see Magnus’s enquiring glance.
He looked at his watch. “For a short while.”
At five minutes to four he said, “We don’t want to keep Laurence waiting.”
“He won’t mind, will he?” Jade asked, trying to sound casual. “Just a few extra minutes?”
But at four o’clock Magnus was getting restive and she had to concede it was time to leave.
“We can meet your friend another time, maybe,” Magnus suggested to Annie, his hand on Jade’s waist.
“I’ll see you out,” Annie said reluctantly, and came with them down the path.
As they were saying their farewells on the pavement another car drew up behind Magnus’s, and Annie said, “Here he is!”
Jade turned to see a youngish man with light brown hair and glasses locking his car. He looked up and came toward them, smiling. “Hi, Annie,” he said easily.
Jade took a step back and came up against Magnus’s shoulder.
The man was coming closer and, as his gaze shifted to her, an uncertain expression crossed his face. “Hello,” he said.
The blood had drained from her face. She felt cold all over, then suddenly hot. Her lips parted dryly, and she whispered, “Hello, Patrick!”
Chapter Fourteen
“Patrick?” Magnus echoed behind her.
Patrick’s blue eyes were warm as they rested on Jade, but his smile had turned apologetic. “I know you but...sorry,” he said. “I can’t recall your name.”
Magnus closed a hand over Jade’s arm and she found herself shifted firmly to one side. She heard him say, “You bastard!” And then in a blur of movement he’d shoved past her and hurled himself at Patrick, whose expression became startled.
Magnus had grasped his collar and was snarling into his face, “You drove her to the brink of death, and you can’t even recall her name?“
Jade rushed forward, grabbing his arm with both hands as he viciously shook the other man. “Magnus, stop!”
Annie stood with her mouth agape, her eyes wide. Patrick wasn’t trying to defend himself, allowing his arms to hang slack at his sides, a look of wary caution on his face. Magnus bunched a fist, and Jade changed position so that she was facing him, trying to shield Patrick with her body. “Don’t!” she cried. “Magnus, for God’s sake—“
Patrick raised a hand and this time it was he who pushed her aside, though his eyes remained on Magnus. “Why don’t we talk?” he said calmly.
Magnus gazed at him, his eyes slitted with rage. “I ought to kill you!” he said, and then let go, giving the other man a shove that made him stagger.
Jade caught at Magnus’s arm again, but this time he didn’t move to attack. He was breathing hard, and there was an expression of furious hatred on his face.
Patrick spread his hands in a placating gesture, and said, “I apologise for not remembering. I do see a lot of people, and—” he smiled tentatively at Jade “—I believe it was some time ago, wasn’t it?”
Magnus made a sound that was like a low, animal growl, and Jade tightened her hold on his arm. “Yes,” she said. “And it wasn’t your fault I became ill. You told me when you said you were going overseas that I should see someone else—you even made an appointment for me, but I never kept it.”
She felt the sudden rigidity of Magnus’s arm in hers as his whole body flexed.
Patrick said, his eyes filled with concern, “You’ve had treatment since?”
“I was in hospital with Annie, but I’m fine now.”
“That’s good. And...” Patrick cast a speculative, interested look at Magnus. “You two met in the hospital? Are you still in treatment, my friend?”
Annie made a small, choked sound, clapping a hand over her mouth, and Jade cast her an anguished glance and said in an unsteady voice, “This...is my husband. Magnus, Patrick was my therapist—for several months before I—went into hospital.”
Annie babbled into the rather blank silence, “What a coincidence, eh? Now he’s treating me—us—all of us in the house.”
Magnus, looking as though he’d been bludgeoned, said stiffly, “I apologise. I...made a mistake.”
Puzzled but polite, the other man shrugged. “No harm done,” he said mildly. “Well, Annie—shall we go inside and get started?”
Magnus watched them walk up the path before he moved, going to open the car door as though his limbs were made of wood. His face was pale and he didn’t look at Jade at all, didn’t speak as he started up the car and drove slowly and with great care to where he had arranged to pick up Laurence. Laurence gave Magnus a brief rundown of the computer demonstration, and of the machine’s good and less good features, and made a few other remarks, but after finding that both Magnus and Jade were replying almost exclusively in monosyllables, he cast an unseen, curious glance between them and closed his eyes, apparently going to sleep.
They were held up by an accident that had blocked traffic on the highway. Magnus frowned, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, and Laurence occupied the time giving a desultory commentary on the progress of the long, crawling column of cars and the arrival and departure of various emergency vehicles, while Jade pretended to read a magazine she’d found in the glove box. The remainder of the journey home was long and silent.
Mrs. Gaines had kept dinner for them, and as soon as they walked in the door she said it would be on the table in five minutes.
Jade went upstairs, expecting Magnus to follow, but he didn’t. When she came down again he and Laurence were already in the dining-room and Mrs. Gaines was taking in the first course.
Her nerves jumping, Jade picked at her foo
d and left half of it uneaten, surreptitiously watching Magnus. He cleaned his plate with a kind of absentminded determination, but she doubted if he’d tasted anything.
She helped Mrs. Gaines clear away the dessert plates, and returned to the dining-room to find Laurence alone. “Magnus said he was going out,” he told her. “Have you two had a fight?”
Jade shook her head. “No. He’s just—preoccupied. Did he say where he was going?”
“Nope. He had a couple of stiff whiskies before he went,” Laurence offered, his expression carefully bland. “I don’t think he took the car.”
Shaken by a spasm of anger, Jade poured herself coffee and made herself sit down and finish it. Magnus and she needed to talk, but he’d taken himself off alone. When was he planning to come back?
It was dusk when she went upstairs again, and she crossed to the window, looking out at the sea, waiting for its calming influence to take over. The long, pale curve of the beach was swept clean and empty, the dark rocks bounding it bleak and rugged. There was something different about them. She knew them so well that she discerned an extra hump that had never been there before. It took a second or two to realise what it was. Someone was sitting hunched on the rock, shoulders bowed and head down. His whole attitude spoke of a depth of despair.
She stood at the window watching for a long time, until darkness hid the figure from her. And in all that time it hadn’t moved. Perhaps she was mistaken. Perhaps it was just another rock after all that she’d never particularly noticed before.
* * *
The sand was still warm under her feet when she removed her shoes. She walked down to the firmer, cooler sand where the waves had recently smoothed it, and the white, uneven lines of foam rose out of the darkness, hissing onto the beach. A slight breeze stirred her hair and ruffled the hem of her skirt about her knees while she walked steadily to the headland, and paused to replace her shoes before climbing onto the rock.
An Interrupted Marriage (Silhouette Special Edition) Page 21
