The Mill House

by Susan Lewis

  'You're incorrigible,' Julia told her, taking one of the books to start leafing through the recipes. She had to force herself to act normally now, because she desperately didn't want Shannon to know what was going on. It would break her heart to think that her father was involved with another woman, for she'd grown up with such a solid belief in her parents' love that it had never even entered her head to doubt it. Were she ever to find out about Sylvia, the foundations of her world would totally fall apart. She could well end up

  hating him for being false and a hypocrite when he'd been so strict with her over romance and boyfriends while all the time he was betraying her mother...

  Feeling a powerful need to protect her daughter, she slipped an arm around Shannon's shoulders and pressed her lips to her hair. She couldn't let anything hurt or damage her precious girl, particularly not while she was at such a vulnerable age. She must do everything she could to prevent it, she just wished Josh felt that way too. Once she would never have doubted it, but now she could only wonder how he could put his own sexual urges before his children, before everything they'd built together. All the lies, the deceit, the running after a woman who would only toss him aside when she was done with him - how could Josh have come to this?

  Aware that her thoughts were starting to diminish him as a man, she tried to push them aside. She didn't want to despise or hate him, she wanted them to be as they always had, together, complete, trusting each other and above all loving each other. But this weakness for Sylvia, this inability to understand the pain it was going to cause to those he loved most, was making her question whether she could ever truly love or respect him again.

  Three o'clock in the morning was a cruel time to be lying awake, remembering the mistakes she'd made, the people she'd hurt, and the damage she'd caused. Overwhelmed by it all, Alice could only clutch her bible and beg forgiveness from the good

  Lord, who, in His mercy, had guarded their terrible secret all these years.

  Since learning of Douglas's death she'd lived in morbid dread of it being revealed. Not a minute of the day passed when it wasn't there in her mind, burying itself deeper and deeper, entwining itself around her, like roots. Julia would never understand, which was why they'd never told her. It would have destroyed her young life, and would even now, were she to find out what they'd been hiding. Douglas would never have wanted that. Throughout all these years he hadn't attempted to tell her, so surely he wouldn't reveal in death what he'd been unable to communicate to her in life. It would be no easier for Julia to deal with now, in many ways it would be even harder.

  Alice's eyes moved gingerly through the darkness, as though expecting to see his ghost. Was he there, watching her, accusing, damning, hating? But he'd agreed it was for the best, and how could he argue it? He'd had to leave, they'd had to make him go, for once the truth was out there was simply no way he could stay. He'd fought them, of course, but he couldn't win, they wouldn't allow it, and they'd done everything possible to help him start a new life. He'd refused it all, except the lawyers George had paid to defend him when times had become so hard he'd been unable to stop himself lashing out. She'd heard that he'd been questioned several times in connection with child sex offences, but she'd never wanted to learn the details. George knew them, because for years he'd kept a close eye on Douglas's comings and goings, until finally Douglas had seemed to settle down with a woman

  in Cornwall and start rebuilding his life. Apparently he'd stayed there all this time, integrating with the community, probably barely even aware of all George had done. Alice was as thankful for that as she was for how simply Pam had accepted his desertion. It was only Julia who'd been unable to let go - and now, considering his will it seemed that Douglas had been unable to, either.

  Hearing her bedroom door open, she closed her eyes and held on more tightly to the Good Book. There was the creak of a floorboard as George crossed the room, then the dip of the bed as he pulled back the sheets and slid in next to her. He was a stern man, principled and God-fearing, but with a kind and loving heart that Julia had never understood. He'd sensed his sister needed comfort in these darkest hours of the night, so he was here, holding her to him and lending her his strength, while sharing the terrible angst in her heart, the way he always had throughout their lives.

  But there were so many lies, so much heartache and deception. How could God ever forgive any of them for what they'd done?

  Just over two hundred miles away, Julia was unable to sleep either, as the thought of Josh and Sylvia, rushing back to London to be together, kept going round and round in her mind. Beside her on the bed were her father's notebooks and diaries. She'd been using them to distract herself with a search for answers she felt certain were there, but nothing had yielded itself up, and her concentration had been so poor as her mind constantly

  struggled to return to the greatest source of her pain that in the end she'd set them aside and turned out the light.

  Now she lay in the darkness, listening to the mill wheel swishing the water, and the call of night birds warbling through the woods. For a while she found herself thinking about her conversation with Rod Fuller earlier, and the feeling she'd had at the end that he'd kept something back. She regretted telling him now that Douglas Cowan was her father, for if she hadn't, she felt sure he'd have said more. Then, aware that the hour was starting to play its devilish tricks on her mind, she tried to move her thoughts elsewhere, but found no comfort in how quickly they returned to Josh. When she'd called after dinner his mother had told her he was out for the evening, and hadn't said where. Though it wasn't unusual for him to have dinner meetings when she wasn't around, how could she be anything other than suspicious now? However, when she'd called him, he had been at a restaurant, and the author he was with had spoken to her himself to say hi.

  Trying to take reassurance from that, she turned over and pulled the sheet up around her face. She felt so weary, yet her mind remained restless, skipping from Josh, to her father, to her mother, to Shannon and Dan, to Fen ... Dinner had been fun this evening. Bob was back, and clearly in good spirits, though she could tell that Fen hadn't been able to help wondering where he'd really been. Knowing the torment of those feelings, her heart went out to her friend. How difficult, maybe even impossible, it was to rebuild love without trust. It

  was like trying to create a life with no dreams.

  As they'd eaten she'd been aware of Rico, but had been careful not to look at him, nor would she think about him now, for the idea of using him to punish Josh was the kind of insanity that only held good in the dead of night. Even so, she couldn't deny being attracted to him, for those moments in the kitchen earlier would make her a liar if she tried, though it baffled her that she could even think of another man that way when she was so afraid of losing Josh. But there was no fear of her going astray, because if she couldn't get it together with Josh, she certainly wouldn't be able to with anyone else.

  Hearing the bedroom door open, she pushed back the covers, and made room for Shannon to cuddle in next to her. Whether she'd sensed her mother's need, or had come to gain comfort for her own, wasn't possible to say, for neither of them spoke. Julia guessed it was both, since she knew Shannon was worried that her mother wasn't seeming like herself, and hurt that Rico had hardly talked to her tonight. There had been a few tears on the way back through the woods, and a very long chat before Julia had turned out her light. Teenage crushes could be every bit as painful as adult angst, though mercifully much more shortlived, but since this was Shannon's first she was finding it particularly hard. It was such a pity the evening had been spoiled for her, because she'd been so excited to see Rico and so sure that he was becoming interested in her now. And she'd looked lovely, her naturally red mouth so full and

  enticing, her flawless peachy skin so young and

  smooth. How could Rico resist her? He must know how she felt, for she was too inexperienced to hide it, and too infatuated to care. Julia couldn't help wondering if one kiss be
tween them would be so wrong, but knew she'd do nothing to encourage it, for Rico was a man, while Shannon was still a child.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The following morning Julia was back in the attic, hauling suitcases to the hatch ready to lower down the ladder. Shannon had vanished first thing for a tennis lesson, and from there she was going on to the supermarket with Ottie and Tilde to shop for this evening's dinner. It seemed last night's hiccup with Rico had been magically forgotten, since she'd been bubbling with excitement earlier as they'd jotted down her shopping list, having finally decided on something nice and simple so she could claim to have made it herself - though Julia had agreed to keep an eye on things while Shannon prepared herself for the big event. Quite what she was planning to wear Julia had yet to find out though if last night's outfit was anything to go by, it was probably a good thing Josh wasn't around, for he certainly wouldn't be happy about jeans that were so low-cut her hip bones showed. She'd looked pretty sensational though, and with her long slim legs, shining blonde hair and pert little breasts, Josh was very soon going to have to

  accept the fact that she was growing up fast.

  Julia had spoken to him about an hour ago, though only briefly for he'd had another call coming in, but at least they'd managed to have a reasonable conversation without him sounding defensive, or irritable, or her becoming suspicious or needy, or any of the negative emotions she was actually feeling. Nor had she found herself tormented by doubt after they'd rung off, though she was still extremely uneasy about his visit to Sylvia. However, since he was due to arrive tomorrow, when hopefully he could go at least some way to convincing her that nothing had happened and it really was over, she'd resigned herself to putting it all on hold until they could talk, in order to get on with things here. Just please don't let anything happen today to send my suspicions into overdrive again, she thought, because she was actually daring to, have high hopes for the weekend.

  Having dragged three suitcases out from under the eaves, she was returning for the last, when her foot kicked against something hard. She looked down, but in the dim light couldn't quite make out what it was. It certainly hadn't been there before, or she'd have noticed it, so it must have been jammed under one of the suitcases and worked itself free en route to the hatch. Stooping to pick it up, she tilted it towards the dim overhead bulb and saw that it was a large metal cash box, which, judging by its weight, contained something, though a good shake produced no sound of coins. She tried opening it, but the lid wouldn't budge, and despite being rusted, the hinges seemed pretty solid too.

  Wondering if the key Shannon had found might fit, she set it down on top of an old sewing machine and went back for the one remaining case.

  'Hello! Is anyone up there?' a voice called out from downstairs.

  Immediately recognising it as Rico's, she felt a jolt of surprise. 'I'm in the attic,' she called back.

  Seconds later she heard his footsteps on the stairs and frowned, for she'd been about to go down and join him, but since she could do with his help, it probably made more sense for him to come up.

  'Hi,' he said, arriving at the foot of the ladder.

  'Hi,' she responded, hoping she didn't look too ghoulish or bat-like, gazing down at him from this shadowy above.

  'Can I do something to help?'

  'Yes, as a matter of fact you can,' she answered, making ready to pass him the first case. 'They aren't especially heavy, but they're awkward to carry down on my own.'

  'It is no problem,' he assured her, climbing the first few rungs to take it. 'Where would you like me to put it?'

  'In the sitting room will be fine. I can go through them in there. Careful, there's a rotating rung at the bottom.'

  Avoiding it, he stepped down to the floor and deposited the case next door, and by the time he came back she was ready with the second one. Once the cases were dealt with, she passed down the cash box, but before he could take it she felt it slipping from her hands. 'Oh my God, look out,' she gasped, as it plunged towards him.

  He ducked. It missed and went crashing to the ground.

  'Are you OK?' she cried.

  He was laughing. 'I'm fine,' he answered, going to pick it up.

  'Are you sure?'

  'Sure.' He turned it over in his hands, checking to see what it was.

  'Is it broken?' she asked. 'Did it come open?'

  'It doesn't look like it,' he answered. 'It is very rusted.' He shook it. 'Do you know what is in here?'

  'No idea. I've only just found it.'

  'Is there a key?'

  'Unless it's one Shannon found the other day I'll have to bring a torch up here to look,' she replied.

  Shrugging, he put the box on the pine chest next to him, and held the ladder steady as she started to descend.

  Aware of coming at him from the most unflattering angle, she tried to avoid the comedy and focus on why he might be here, because she hadn't been expecting him, and he presumably knew where Shannon was, so maybe he'd come to say he couldn't make it for dinner ... She hoped it wasn't that, because it would devastate poor Shannon. Although, it could be for the best, since he really was too old for her, and she was almost bound to end up with a broken heart. Maybe he had a message from Fen, or had just popped in on the off chance she might need help ... There was so much going round in her head that she totally forgot about the bottom rung and as her foot went

  down on it, it rolled and she staggered and the next thing she knew she was falling against him.

  'Oh gosh, I'm sorry,' she gasped.

  He steadied her, hands under her elbows, chest

  on her back. 'Are you OK?' he asked.

  'Yes. Fine.'

  He didn't let go, and unable to believe she was doing it, she stayed where she was. She could hear him breathing, smell the masculine scent of him mingled with horses and fresh air. Her breath locked inside her as her senses began to swirl.

  Still neither of them moved. Then his hands slipped round in front of her and he began to rub her waist and her breasts. She wasn't allowing herself to think, or move, or do anything except feel his hands. His mouth touched her neck, and she turned so weak with longing that her head fell back on his shoulder. She would stop him in a moment, she would have to, but it had been so long since she'd felt like this ...

  He was murmuring in Italian, still rubbing her breasts, and his mouth was so gentle, yet insistent, and as he began raising her top she merely lifted her arms to let him remove it completely. Then he was unfastening her bra, and the need to feel his hands on her skin was so intense that she still didn't stop him. He peeled the bra away and she gasped as he scooped her breasts in his hands. Her nipples were so aroused that they were throbbing between his fingers, and she wanted more and more - but only of this, no more than this ...

  Her tracksuit bottoms slid down easily to her thighs, exposing her completely to his hands, and the sensations pulsing through her became so

  commanding that she could do nothing but give in to them. He was easing her trousers on down to her ankles, and as she stepped out of them he turned her to face him. She thought of Josh and Sylvia, of how they'd betrayed her, then she looked down at Rico's tousled dark head, as he pushed his tongue between her legs.

  'Oh my God,' she choked, putting her hands against the wall to steady herself. The suddenness of the sensations was too powerful, she had been so long without them that she was helpless to control them - and she was almost afraid to breathe in case any movement snatched them away.

  Then he was standing up, and resting his hands on her waist as he gazed into her eyes.

  'We can't do this,' she mumbled, but even as she said it she was allowing his mouth to come to hers. Then she was helping him to take off his own clothes and moving to him as he wrapped her in his arms. The feel of his skin against hers was so erotic that she had to have more, and as they lay down on the bed she opened her legs to take him.

  As he began to move in and out of her she became so dazed by the plea
sure that she was barely even aware of gripping her legs around him and urging him to go faster and harder. In some disconnected part of herself she could still hardly believe it was happening, but she was too immersed in their mounting passion to care, or even to wonder why there was no creeping coldness of fear coming in to stop her. There was only the need for more and yet more. He was pumping her so hard now that the bed was slamming

  against the wall. She grabbed the rail overhead, and urged him on and on. She could feel a climax beginning to build, and nothing in her wanted him to stop. She was so close to the ultimate release, he was taking her there, this stranger, this boy, and as she looked up into his face she felt such a surge of emotion that tears burned in her eyes.

  'Are you OK?' he whispered.

  'Yes. Oh God, yes.'

  In some vague other world the phone seemed to be ringing downstairs, but she barely heard it. She was almost there. He was taking her so close now... And then suddenly it began ...

  'Oh my God!' she gasped, as the first waves broke so forcefully inside her she could hardly bear it. She raised her hips higher, needing to take him deeper, and the release kept on coming and coming. The power of it was so overwhelming that it reverberated like shocks through her entire body. She shuddered and convulsed, cried out and clung to him harder than ever. There was no coldness, no dark vacuum, or fear, no suffocating terror - there was only this, a raging torrent of sensation made so much more intense by having been stifled for so long. She wanted it to go on and on. She wanted to rejoice and cry, for it had been so easy, so clear of the shadows inside her. She felt free and euphoric delirious and triumphant. Then he was coming too, and she held him tight, urging him to let go, to give her everything he had.

  Finally he collapsed over her and buried his face in her neck. She kept her arms around him and stroked his hair and his back. His skin was smooth, his muscles hard and taut. Her eyes were closed,