A Cure for Love

by Penny Jordan

  ‘In it, he, my father, told me that the reason, or one of the reasons, he had left my mother was because he had discovered that she was a carrier. Apparently she had known but had kept it a secret from him. When I was born there were complications, various tests had to be carried out, and the truth came to light.

  ‘My parents were told then that if I had inherited the disorder then the chances were that I wouldn’t survive beyond my early teens.

  ‘My father was one of those men who wanted sons. A very macho man…in that sense. I would say a complete coward in others. He obviously couldn’t face up to what had happened, and so he left my mother…divorced her and went to live in Australia.

  ‘She never told me any of this, and by some fluke I turned out to be one of the rare cases where, although I had inherited the defective gene, the effects of the disorder had never materialised.

  ‘When I received that letter—at first I couldn’t believe it…didn’t want to believe it. It was like a nightmare…like descending into hell. I had no idea who to turn to…what to do. There I was, m…’

  He paused. ‘Perhaps in my own way I was as much a coward as my father. All I know is I couldn’t bear the thought of putting any woman through what my mother must have had to endure with me…what, I had now learned, women carrying the disorder did go through when they gave birth to male children, and so…’

  ‘So you opted for a vasectomy,’ Lacey supplied for him.

  For a moment he hesitated. His face was pale and set, a muscle jerking painfully in his jaw.

  ‘Yes. I opted for a vasectomy,’he agreed heavily.

  Lacey had no idea what to say. She was overwhelmed with shock and compassion. How could any father treat his son the way Lewis’s had treated him? She could hardly bear to remember that she had been the one who had initially encouraged him to seek him out.

  ‘If I hadn’t encouraged you to find your father…’ she began painfully, but he shook his head, stopping her.

  ‘No, you mustn’t say that. Far, far better that I did find out than…’ He stopped and swallowed and Lacey knew he must be thinking of her…that other woman. Where was she now? Why had they split up? Had it been because of his disorder?

  Impulsively she reached out towards him, placing her hand on his arm. Beneath her fingertips his flesh felt hot, the muscles hard. The sensation of his skin beneath her own momentarily distracted her, and then she looked up at him and saw the bleakness in his eyes and told him softly, ‘Lewis, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened…between you…you and her, but no woman who loved…who loved a man could ever turn away from him because he…because he had made the decision not to have any children…no matter how much she herself might have wanted them.’

  As she spoke she knew illuminatingly that for her it was true, that, given the choice all those years ago, even though she had desperately wanted a family, she would willingly have sacrificed that need to be with him. Lewis himself would always have had prior claim on her love.

  ‘No. Maybe not…but I could never live with myself if I had asked a woman, especially a woman whom I knew wanted children, to give them up…no matter how much she might love me. To do so would have been cheating on her and cheating on our love.’

  He was looking at her as he spoke, and for some reason his words made her ache and tremble almost as though they were directed at her, and not towards someone else.

  ‘You’re a very compassionate woman, Lacey,’ he told her rawly. ‘The kind of woman it’s all too dangerously easy for a man to love.’

  And then he raised his hands to her face and, gently cupping it, leaned forward and kissed her mouth.

  It was, she recognised as tears stung her eyes, a kiss of peace…of sadness…a kiss without passion or need; and yet, even as the thought formed, it changed, the pressure of his mouth hardening fractionally, the way his hands held her face betraying a hint of tension.

  Almost without knowing what she was doing, she moved towards him, her mouth soft and inviting, her lips clinging to his.

  For a moment she thought that it was going to happen, that he was after all going to kiss her, and then outside an owl hooted and he was releasing her, moving away from her, saying unsteadily, ‘I’d better go. It’s getting late.’

  ‘You’ll call round in the morning to see Jessica off,’ Lacey reminded him as she too stood up.

  In the half-darkness he hesitated, almost as though he was torn between leaving and coming back to her. She held her breath, waiting…hoping…and then didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved when he finally turned back to the door, confirming, ‘Yes, I’ll be here.’

  ‘SO THAT’S it now, until half-term,’ Jessica mourned as she put the last of her things in her car. ‘Still, never mind, it isn’t long to wait, and once we get these tests out of the way…Well, let’s just say that I’m rather looking forward to having two parents to come home to.’

  Guilt, pain, and illogically something close to anger followed one another in quick succession as Lacey listened to her daughter.

  The anger she suppressed. It was unfair of her to feel resentful and hurt, to feel almost as though she had to justify herself and her actions to Jessica. After all, it wasn’t Jessica’s fault that she had found Lewis and her mother in bed together, was it?

  But sooner or later Jessica would have to be told the truth, and Lacey was beginning to wish that she had been told it right from the start.

  Lewis had already left. He had called round earlier on to wish Jessica a safe journey and then had announced that he had to leave.

  To Lacey he had said quietly that he knew she would want a few minutes to herself with Jessica. His consideration had surprised her a little, bringing the quick sting of emotional tears to her eyes.

  She had become far too emotional recently, too quick to allow her feelings to control her life, her nerves in a constant state of rawness and tension.

  She had wanted Lewis to go, had been relieved to see him go; and yet at the same time she had longed for him to stay, for him…for him to what? To love her as she had once believed that he did? Was she really so stupid?

  The trouble was that these last few days, with their too evocative intimacy with him, their pseudo-closeness, had confused her brain to the point where even it was sometimes in danger of believing in the fiction they had created. When Lewis stood next to her, when he touched her, when he looked at her, her need to respond to him was so intense that she could barely control it.

  Now he had gone, and just as soon as Jessica had had her tests done and the results were known, just as soon as they were sure that she was over the trauma of them, they would be able to start convincing her that they were not, after all, planning to get back together.

  But in the meantime…

  In the meantime she had work to do, she reminded herself as she gave Jessica a last warm kiss and then waved her off.

  SHE HAD already warned Tony Aimes that she would be late getting into the office.

  When she did arrive he greeted her warmly, giving her an affectionate hug.

  Why was it, she wondered dispassionately as she disengaged herself, that the embrace of one man should leave her emotions and her flesh so cold, while the merest touch of another…?

  From the comments Tony made to her as she worked, she guessed that he had heard something about Lewis, although he didn’t ask her outright who he was, or what role he had in her life.

  Lacey responded vaguely to his discreet probing, telling herself uncomfortably that, since Lewis did not and could not have any real or permanent role in her life, it was pointless discussing with anyone the close relationship they had once shared.

  She worked late, dealing with a query from abroad which had cropped up at the last minute, and then drove home, feeling edgy and tense.

  At the back of her mind, unwanted and dangerous, lay the knowledge that she was half hoping that, even though with Jessica back at university there was no real reason for him to do so
, Lewis would get in touch with her. Half hoping…and half dreading.

  When the evening passed without the telephone ringing once, she told herself that she was glad, that it was a relief to her that Lewis had not tried to get in touch, and yet when she went to bed she was thinking about him, wondering what he was doing and who he was with.

  Although it had been obvious from his conversation that his business had done extremely well and that he had a close-knit group of friends, there had never been any reference by him to anyone special…a woman…the woman.

  But then, he was hardly likely to do so, was he?

  A week slipped by, her days almost too busy as she caught up with the work which had piled up during her absence, but despite her tiredness she wasn’t sleeping very well, her thoughts constantly returning to Lewis.

  It was the strain of the fiction she had been forced to live under while Jessica was at home, she told herself unsteadily as she fought to banish the mental images of Lewis which continued to crowd her mind, threatening to take over her whole life.

  On Friday evening, just as she was walking into the house, the phone started to ring. She raced to pick up the receiver, her heart pounding, her stomach clenching on an agony of apprehension and tension, but it was only Ian, ringing to confirm the arrangements for Jessica’s tests.

  ‘By the way,’ he added rather stiltedly, ‘I understand that congratulations are in order.’When Lacey said nothing, he continued uncomfortably, ‘Jessica has told me your good news. I must say that it came as something of a shock. I had no idea that Lewis and you…Of course I’m delighted for both of you, and Jessica obviously is over the moon. I understand you haven’t set an actual date yet, but—’

  ‘Jessica told you that Lewis and I are getting married?’ Lacey interrupted him huskily.

  ‘Yes. Yes, that’s right. I do understand that it isn’t common knowledge yet. I must say that Lewis is a very lucky man, Lacey. I’m very happy for you, my dear. For both of you…but most especially for you, even though…’

  He continued to talk for several more minutes while Lacey closed her eyes, thankful that there was no one with her to witness the shock his disclosures had given her.

  How could Jessica have done this to her? How could she have intimated to Ian that she and Lewis…?

  Numbly she replaced the receiver, her first impulse to ring Jessica and demand to know what on earth she had thought she was doing dying as she realised how futile such an action would be.

  What on earth was she going to do now? Ian wasn’t a gossip, and he was a close friend, but even so…Her stomach muscles clenched in an agony of mortification as she thought of the gossip which would ensue once people knew that she and Lewis were not going to remarry.

  It was all very well at Jessica’s age to shake off as unimportant the views and comments of others. And as for Lewis…well, this wasn’t his home. He wouldn’t have to live with the consequences of any gossip, while she…

  There was only one thing for it: she would have to go and see Lewis to tell him what had happened and see if there was some way of repairing the damage Jessica had unwittingly done. After all, surely he would want people assuming that the two of them were going to get married as little as she did herself?

  She was still wearing her office clothes. It was a warm fine evening and before setting out she went upstairs, showered and changed into a pair of jeans and a soft T-shirt.

  Without her high heels she looked almost too small to be adult, and wasn’t it perhaps time she opted for a more sophisticated and mature hairstyle than her shoulder-length bob, something that would give her more authority and maturity?

  Grimacing at herself in the mirror, she went back downstairs, collected her keys and her shoulder-bag, and let herself out of the house.

  It was only when she had driven over halfway to Lewis’s that she allowed herself to admit that she could probably more easily have discussed what had happened with him over the telephone.

  Some things had to be said face to face, she told herself defensively, ignoring the tiny inner voice that taunted her that she was just using Ian’s phone call as an excuse to go running after Lewis…that it wasn’t so much her shock at discovering that Ian believed they were getting married that was motivating her, but her longing to see Lewis…to be with him.

  Guiltily trying to banish such potentially disruptive thoughts, she concentrated on her driving.

  It was a beautiful early summer evening, the countryside lush and green. Envy and nostalgia ached inside her as she passed a young couple walking together hand in hand, gazing into one another’s eyes, their love for one another so plain, so obvious that it brought a lump to her throat.

  Once she and Lewis had been like that. Once…

  When she arrived at the house and turned into the drive, without Lewis’s presence and its effect on her to distract her, she was acutely conscious of the house’s air of forlorness.

  Lewis and his home both shared an aloneness, she recognised as she parked her car and got out.

  When she knocked on the door there was no reply, and neither was there any sign of Lewis’s car. See what you get for behaving so impetuously and stupidly? she derided herself. You come rushing over here, totally unnecessarily, and it serves you right that Lewis isn’t in.

  And yet, instead of getting straight back in her car, turning it round and driving home, she wandered round the side of the house and into the rear garden, reluctant to listen to the voice of common sense and restraint, wanting rather to stay where she was as though in some way being here in Lewis’s home brought her closer to him.

  Fool, she told herself as she walked across the lawn, but her emotions, her senses refused to respond to her taunts.

  Lewis. How stupid it was of her to still love him like this…yearning for him, aching for him as though her physical and emotional growth had been halted when he had left her, as though she were still that same girl who had thought he loved her as deeply and permanently as she loved him.

  The roses cloaking the summer-house blurred and trembled, but it wasn’t until she blinked that Lacey realised it was because she had started to cry.

  Why, after nearly twenty years of firmly controlling her emotions, was she now behaving like this—bursting into tears without warning, suffering all the emotional upheaval and agony of a woman deeply in love?

  Perhaps because she was a woman deeply in love. A woman hopelessly in love.

  She covered her face with her hands, weeping silently, her body convulsing as she gave in to the deep welling tide of emotion destroying her self-control.

  Lewis. She loved him so much.

  Somewhere in the distance she heard the sound of a car, but the noise barely registered, unable to penetrate the intensity of her grief.

  Lewis. Too late now to wish that fate had never seen fit to bring him back into her life. Into Jessica’s life.

  The first thing Lewis had seen when he turned into his drive was Lacey’s car, and as he parked his own and unfastened his seatbelt his face was creased with sharp anxiety.

  Something was wrong. Something had to be wrong to bring Lacey here to see him.

  His heart started to pound, fear twisting his guts. It was Jessica. Something had happened. The tests.

  As he rounded the corner of the house and saw Lacey standing motionless with her back to him, his fears were confirmed.

  As he sprinted across the lawn towards her, calling her name, she turned her head.

  In the sunlight he could see quite clearly the traces of her tears, and the pain in her eyes.

  Without even thinking about what he was doing, he caught hold of her, holding her, cradling her against him, his hand in her hair, stroking it, smoothing it, while his own body was trembling almost as much as hers.

  ‘Lacey. Don’t…please don’t. Don’t cry, my darling. Just tell me what’s wrong…Jessica…it’s Jessica, isn’t it…?’

  CHAPTER NINE

  JESSICA!

  Lac
ey tensed, lifting her head from Lewis’s chest.

  The shock of seeing him racing towards her across the lawn, and then taking hold of her, cradling her, whispering her name, stroking her hair, treating her with such tenderness and concern, coming so unexpectedly on top of her bleak thoughts had left her with no defences to withstand him, but now suddenly she was shocked back to reality.

  She could hear the anguish in his voice, and, knowing it was for their daughter, she was torn between her instinctive need to reassure him that nothing was wrong, and the shocking awareness of her jealousy of her daughter, that she should be the one to arouse him to such concern…such emotion.

  She trembled in his arms, disgusted by her own emotions. How could she resent the fact that he loved Jessica?

  As he felt her tremble, the pressure of his arm around her tightened. She heard him give a small groan and felt the deep shuddering breath he took.

  ‘Lacey…darling. Look at me. Tell me.’

  Darling…he had called her darling. Confusion swirled through her, lifting her head from his chest so that she could focus on him.

  ‘It isn’t Jessica,’ she managed to tell him huskily. ‘She’s…she’s fine.’

  ‘Not Jessica?’ He was frowning now, and she tensed, waiting for him to release her, to step back from her, to repudiate and reject her; but, although the pressure of his arm relaxed a little as the tension left him, it still stayed firmly round her, and the hand which had been in her hair now cradled the back of her neck, his fingers stroking her tense muscles. ‘Then what…?’

  He was looking at her…searching her eyes so intently that she had to look away, unable to sustain the scrutiny. His glance dropped to her mouth, and lingered there. She was as acutely conscious of it as though he had actually touched her.

  The tender flesh of her lips burned and felt so unbearably dry that she just had to moisten them, just had to open her mouth and touch the burning dry heat of her lips with her tongue tip.

  ‘Lacey.’ The harsh protest shocked her into looking directly at him. ‘You’ve been crying.’ His fingertips touched her face, tracing the path of her tears. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’