Finally Home

by Taylor, Helen Scott

  Melanie laughed as her nose squashed against Jack’s cheek, and a warm glow of contentment settled inside her. Last night had been perfect. She had felt so comfortable waking up with Jack, as though they were meant to be together. And having Ryan back with them made the day perfect.

  Ryan held them captive for a few minutes until Melanie tickled his tummy. He screamed with excitement then jumped up and clambered on Jack’s lap. “When are you going to be my daddy?”

  “You’re the master of tact, young man.” Jack tweaked his nose.

  Melanie thought she was past blushing over things her son said to Jack, but heat rose up her neck and she knew her cheeks would be pink. “That’s something for Mummy and Jack to discuss, Ryan.”

  “We were right,” Jack said. “Your son is definitely a matchmaker. Maybe he can make a career of it someday. He’d corner the market.” He leaned close and put his mouth to her ear. “One day soon, I hope he will call me daddy.”

  “Oh.” Melanie’s gaze met Jack’s, her hand pressed to her heart. He smiled, his eyes warm, loving. He really was serious about her if he had marriage in mind. She turned the idea over in her head and it felt right, but he hadn’t asked her yet. “I’d like that,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

  “Really? You’ll marry me?”

  Melanie blinked at him. “Is that…is that a proposal?”

  Jack looked as surprised as she felt. “I guess it is.” Then more firmly, “Yes. Marry me, Melanie.”

  “You mean it?” Melanie’s breath caught. Was she ready for this?

  Jack wrapped his arms around both her and Ryan. “This feels right, doesn’t it?”

  Melanie closed her eyes and reveled in the safety of his embrace. “Yes. It feels right.”

  “Then say yes.” He cupped her cheek in his hand.

  “Yes, Jack. I’d love to marry you.”

  Jack grinned at her and set Ryan on the bench. “Back in a moment.” He dashed inside and returned a minute later with a red velvet box.

  Ryan started bouncing up and down with excitement, but Melanie put an arm around him to hold him still. “Shh, sweetheart. You need to sit quietly for a few moments.”

  Jack lifted the box lid and took out a diamond solitaire ring. “Melanie, will you marry me?”

  Ryan shouted, “Yes, yes.” He picked up her hand and held it out.

  Jack laughed, the sound as much relief as pleasure, and slid the ring on her finger. Ryan lifted her hand and turned it back and forth in the sunlight. “Look at it sparkling, Mummy. It’s full of rainbows.”

  Jack brushed his lips over hers in a breathless kiss and they both laughed. “You didn’t intend to propose today, did you?” she asked.

  “Actually, no. I bought the ring two days ago in Plymouth. I saw it in a jeweler’s window and it just seemed right. I hoped that someday you’d be ready to accept. You surprised me today.”

  “I surprised myself.” Melanie hadn’t felt this light inside since the first time she held Ryan. Finally she and her darling boy had the chance of a fresh start, a chance of happiness.

  Jack put his arm around her shoulders, and they wandered back to her flat to fetch some coloring books to keep Ryan occupied while they did a few hours admin in the hotel office. As Melanie pushed open her front door, it jammed on the local papers and a heap of letters.

  “What on earth?” Melanie picked up a few of the envelopes, checking the addresses. She half expected to find they’d been wrongly delivered. Most days she received a couple of letters and a few pieces of junk mail, not—she estimated how many letters there were—ten or more.

  “The kid who delivers the local papers out our way is always late. The Courier came out yesterday.” Jack stooped and picked up one of the newspapers. The lazy smile fell from his lips and tense lines appeared on his forehead.

  “Jack. What is it?”

  When he didn’t answer, she tried to pull the newspaper from his hands.

  “No.” He hung on, twisting it so she couldn’t read the front, his eyes bleak.

  “Jack! What is it? Let me see.”

  After a few more seconds he breathed a curse and let go. She turned the paper over to read the headline, heart thumping so hard her ribs hurt.

  Dr. Death’s Widow in Town.

  * * *

  Jack watched Melanie flop onto a kitchen chair as though her legs wouldn’t hold her, the newspaper crumpled in her hand. A chill fist clenched his gut. Just when everything was going so well.

  “Mel.” Jack crouched beside her, tried to release her stiff fingers from around the Courier. “It’ll be all right. It’ll soon blow over.”

  The blood drained from her face, leaving her pale, her eyes huge and dark. Her gaze traveled to the scattered heap of envelopes he’d put on the table. “How did the journalist find out?” she whispered. “You’re the only person I’ve told.” Her gaze came back to him, no accusation in her eyes, just confusion and hurt.

  “I didn’t tell them, Mel. I promise.” But he had told his mother. He couldn’t believe she would tell the press. Maybe she’d let a detail slip to a friend, but surely that couldn’t account for the newspaper headline.

  “Then how?” Melanie looked so lost he wanted to comfort her, but when he put his arms around her she remained rigid, unyielding. She’d withdrawn and shut him out just as she had a few weeks ago.

  Ryan ran in crying, holding out his finger. “I got a splinter, Mummy.” As if someone had thrown a switch inside her, Melanie’s expression firmed. She stood and, moving like an automaton, went into action. She bent and hugged Ryan, kissing his hair. “You’ll have to be a brave boy while I get it out for you. Jack will give you a hug to make it better.”

  Jack took a seat at the table and held out his arms for Ryan while Melanie found a needle and removed the splinter. Brightly efficient, she returned the needle to its case and smiled at Ryan. “I think you deserve a treat after that.”

  Ryan wriggled out of Jack’s arms and accepted a small box of raisins and a cup of juice. Melanie then pulled on rubber gloves and started wiping and tidying in earnest. Jack was almost more shaken by her stoic control than the newspaper headline. He’d expected her initial shock to be followed by tears and recriminations.

  To someone who didn’t know her, everything in the kitchen would appear normal, but being busy must be her way of coping. When Jack had interviewed her for the hotel job, he’d been impressed by her brisk efficiency, her focus. He hadn’t realized then that she was focusing on her work to block out her pain.

  “Mel.” He had to crack the brittle shield of efficiency she used to keep the world, and him, at bay before it was too late.

  She looked up, eyebrows raised. “Sorry, Jack. Do you want another drink?”

  “No. I just—”

  “Another coffee maybe,” she said in her crisp, no-nonsense voice he’d heard a hundred times while she was at work. Her “keep your distance, I’m busy” voice.

  “Okay,” he said, bemused. He was used to soothing his mother, who always made a performance of her emotional traumas. Dealing with his mum was like talking a jumper down from a window ledge. Melanie’s emotional retreat was something new to him. Words weren’t the answer, so he went up behind her, gently clasped her upper arms and held her still. “Mel,” he whispered against her ear. “Stop this, love. Let me hold you. Cry if you want. I don’t mind.”

  He tried to turn her into his arms, but she shrugged away his
hands, fetched a mug from the cupboard and poured his coffee. “I’ve been here before. Life has to go on. It’s the only way to cope.” She gave a meaningful look in Ryan’s direction. “Falling apart is not an option.”

  Now they were engaged, Jack hoped she would lean on him for support if something bad happened. Instead she had retreated and shut him out again. Jack pinched the bridge of his nose on a wave of despondency. Would she ever change or had he set himself up for more heartache?

  With gentle encouragement, Jack persuaded Melanie to take a relaxing bath to ease her tension. While Ryan colored a picture on the kitchen table, Jack read the newspaper article, praying a sharp journalist had somehow discovered Melanie was in town and the timing of his chat with his mother was coincidental. When the article referred to an anonymous source, a shot of anger and betrayal went through him.

  Ryan got bored with coloring and started to pile the letters into a neat heap. He gave a cheeky grin. “I’ve made a letter castle.”

  Jack forced himself to smile back. “So you have.” It dawned on him how many letters there were. With a flash of dread, he realized some were probably from people who’d read the newspaper the previous day. He pulled out two letters that were obviously legitimate, left them on the table and folded the rest into the newspaper. He really shouldn’t open Melanie’s mail, but he planned to screen them and remove anything offensive.

  As soon as he heard the bathroom door open, he shouted, “I’m going home for a short while.” A few minutes later, he unlocked his back door, dumped the bundle of paper on the table and went straight for the phone. He called his mother, and the housekeeper answered. Jack drummed his fingers on the table and stared at the newspaper headline while he waited for his mother to come to the phone.

  “Jack darling, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “Did you talk to anyone about Melanie’s past?”

  Silence for a few seconds. “No.”

  “Have you seen the Courier?”

  “I haven’t had time. It’s here somewhere. All the newspapers normally get put on the hall stand.”

  “Find it. Look at the front page.” Jack waited while his mother went to fetch the newspaper.

  “Good heavens.”

  The shock in his mother’s voice told him she wasn’t the one who’d spilled the beans. Not that he’d thought she was, but the confirmation eased the tension in his neck a fraction.

  “Poor Melanie. Is she all right?”

  “What do you think?” Jack regretted his harsh tone. He had a nasty suspicion he knew who the informant was. “Did you tell anyone? Anyone at all.”

  “Well…” His mother’s voice faltered. “Marco overheard some of our conversation. He asked me about Melanie. I couldn’t refuse to tell him.”

  “Of course you could.” Anger surged through Jack, burning in his blood, making his head feel as though it would explode. “Marco’s untrustworthy. You know that, Mum!” At his mother’s small sound of distress, remorse cooled Jack’s temper. He sucked in a breath and released it slowly before he said something he’d regret. “Mum, I’ve held my tongue for a long time, but this needs to be said. Marco is not good for you or the family. Just think about it. You give him everything he asks for, yet he sold Melanie’s story to the local rag, and they couldn’t possibly afford to pay more than a few pounds.”

  “But, Jack—”

  “No buts. Mum. It’s the truth. What he did has hurt Melanie and Ryan.”

  “I’m sure he didn’t mean to.”

  Jack closed his eyes and hung on to his temper. “Whether he meant to or not is beside the point. Melanie was devastated when she saw that headline. I’m worried she’ll take her son and leave town to avoid the fallout. That’s what she’s done in the past when this happened. If I lose her and Ryan, it’ll be Marco’s fault.”

  Small sobs sounded on the other end of the line and tore at Jack’s heart. He hated making his mother unhappy, but she had to open her eyes and see Marco for what he was—a leech, sucking her dry.

  “I’m sorry, Jack. Let me know what happens with Melanie.”

  “I will.” Jack replaced the phone and stared at the wall, his breath coming in short, harsh gasps. He could blame Marco all he wanted, but he was the one who’d told his mother about Melanie’s past. If he hadn’t, Marco would never have found out.

  If he lost Melanie, it would be his own fault.

  * * *

  “Talk to me, Mel? It’ll help get the newspaper article in perspective.”

  Melanie shook her head. “I don’t want to discuss it. I can’t.” Didn’t Jack understand she’d been in this situation many times before? Talking wouldn’t solve the problem. Nothing would.

  She needed to make a decision on what to do, but so many emotions were churning inside her she couldn’t get her thoughts straight. “If you want to help you can keep Ryan occupied.”

  “We’ll play a board game in the sitting room.”

  “I need some space, Jack. Can you take him home with you for a few hours?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t like leaving you alone.”

  “Please. Just for a while.” The effort of keeping up a cheerful front for Ryan was draining her. She was not fit company for anyone at the moment.

  As soon as they left, Melanie pulled out her plastic box of cleaning supplies from underneath the sink. Concentrating totally on the task at hand, she wiped down the work surfaces, the windowsill and the wall tiles; scoured the sink until it shone; cleaned the window, the oven and the inside of the microwave. Then she filled a bucket with hot soapy water, went down on her hands and knees and started scrubbing the floor.

  When exhaustion caught up with her, she paused her frantic rubbing and closed her eyes. As if sensing she was weakening, the fears she’d kept locked away escaped and raced back into her mind.

  How can I stay here now?

  If things followed their normal pattern, the news would soon spread round the whole town. Everyone would look at her as they used to in Littlechurch—as though she were a criminal. Thank goodness it was the school holidays, so Ryan was out of the firing line. People could be so cruel, even to a small child. In one of the villages where they’d lived, she’d had to remove Ryan from the local playgroup. Once her identity came out, other parents had objected to their children playing with the son of a murderer.

  Gritting her teeth, she scoured a dark scuff left on the gray tiles until her arm ached. She sat back on her heels and massaged the muscles in her forearm. She must do what was best for Ryan, but how could she take him away from Jack? Ryan already loved Jack like a father. And she loved him…

  How can I leave Jack?

  Pain gripped her chest so hard she struggled to suck in air.

  How can I stay with Jack?

  She couldn’t bear the thought he’d be subjected to the gossip and ridicule she’d had to put up with. She couldn’t work at the hotel either. Guests might boycott the place if they knew she worked there. That had happened to the restaurant where she worked a few years ago—until the owner sacked her.

  She should never have become involved with Jack. Anyone associated with her would be a target if things turned nasty as they had before. She was the bad apple in the barrel that turned all the others rotten.

  Melanie swapped the scourer to her other hand and rubbed at another spot of dirt. It was always an upheaval to move on. In the past she’d left behind friends, but never someone she loved. It would be so
difficult, so heartbreaking to say goodbye to Jack.

  Her gaze rose to the diamond ring left safely on the windowsill while she cleaned. The stone concentrated the sun into a shimmering point of brilliance that spilled across the wall in a rainbow of color, as if it contained her very dreams. But how could she put it back on her finger now?

  Late in the afternoon, when Melanie had worked her way through most of the flat and was giving the bath a thorough clean, the phone rang. Ryan asked if he could stay over at Jack’s house that night. Although her heart ached at the thought of being without him, she agreed immediately. In some of the other places they’d lived, horrible things had been posted through the letterbox and stones thrown at the windows. She wanted Ryan out of the house as much as possible.

  At six o’clock, while she was sorting through Ryan’s toy box and washing dirty plastic toys, someone knocked on the front door. With chills racing up and down her spine, she peered through the peephole. Jack and Ryan stood on the mat holding a package.

  Her initial burst of pleasure faded to concern as she opened the door. “I thought he was staying with you tonight?” she fired at Jack before he could open his mouth.

  “Look, Mummy, fish and chips.” Ryan raced past her towards the kitchen with the white plastic carrier bag in his arms.

  Jack raised his eyebrows, then put his hand on her back, eased her inside and shut the door. “It was Ryan’s idea he should stay with me. I don’t think you should be alone tonight.” He tried to kiss her but she turned away. She couldn’t let him get under her defenses or she might fall apart.

  Melanie busied herself laying out plates and cutlery on the table. “Hands, Ryan,” she reminded as he started to pull out his chair. Jack pushed Ryan’s footstool up to the sink. He and Ryan made a game out of washing their hands with a great deal of laughing and splashing. Her throat clogged and she bit her lip to hold back her sorrow for what she and Ryan must leave behind. She opened the fridge door and crouched to find the tomato ketchup, using the time to gather her composure.