by Susan Lewis
He was shaking his head. ‘I don’t know if that’s true,’ he said, ‘but if it is, then I’ve got to tell you, you put on a mighty convincing show …’
‘It’s not a show,’ she broke in. ‘I do find you attractive, I readily admit that, it’s just … Well, it’s …’ She dashed a hand through her hair, as her resolve started to fracture. ‘Look, I don’t want to get into my past,’ she said, determined not to back down, ‘but I will tell you that it’s still having a bearing on the way I think, and on what I do, which is why we can’t go any further. I slept with you because I hadn’t had sex for a long time, and because there really was some chemistry between us. But to try fooling ourselves into thinking it can go …’
‘Fooling ourselves! Jesus Christ, I’ve read you wrong if that’s how you see our relationship.’
‘And it seems I read you wrong too,’ she snapped back. ‘Why didn’t you admit you’d been married? Why let me find out from someone like Rosa? She was at your wedding, so you had to know she knew about Karen.’
‘To be frank, it was a long time ago and I’d forgotten she was there,’ he answered. ‘She’s a friend of Karen’s, not mine, and hardly that …’
‘Do you still live with Karen?’
‘For God’s sake!’ he cried. ‘Of course I don’t live with her. I told you, we’re divorced.’
‘But you still speak every day, and she still matters more to you than being truthful with me. Well, that’s OK. I know what it’s like to be in love with …’
‘I’m not in love with her,’ he cut in. ‘But I can see now that that has no bearing on this, does it, because what we’re really coming down to is that you’re still in love with Richard.’
She’d already taken breath to deny it, when she realized that maybe it would serve her better not to.
‘Am I right?’ he demanded.
Still she didn’t answer.
He was staring at her hard, a new anger darkening all other emotion in his eyes. ‘You accuse me of not being truthful with you,’ he said harshly, ‘but how about you being truthful with me?’ Before she could speak he said, ‘It’s OK, I don’t need to hear it. Your past is your own. I just want you to know that I never intended to hide anything from you, but our relationship is only three days old, for God’s sake, and Karen …’ He raised a hand, then dropped it, and, managing a calmer tone, he said, ‘I came here to tell you about Karen, so that’s what I’m going to do. God knows I wouldn’t have chosen to do it this way, but I’m not prepared to have you thinking for one more minute that I set out to deceive you.’
She watched him as once again he struggled with his temper. ‘I thought there was a chance you already knew this,’ he began, ‘the papers got hold of it a while ago …’ He waited to see if anything registered, but it was evident she had no idea what he was leading up to.
‘Karen and I have a son,’ he said abruptly. ‘His name’s Lucas. We speak most days because of him, and I try to be there every night when he goes to bed.’
The lingering hostility in her eyes told him that she really didn’t know what was coming, and were he not so angry he’d have felt sorry that she was having to hear it like this. ‘Lucas has been severely handicapped from birth,’ he said. ‘He’s ten now, and we don’t know how much longer he’s going to live.’
Shock registered instantly on her face, but before she could speak he said, ‘I didn’t want the divorce, Karen did. She couldn’t cope with marriage and a handicapped child and Lucas needed her more. She wanted to devote her life to him, and having me around made it too difficult … She runs a school now, in Islington, for children with Lucas’s condition. It’s become her great passion in life, and when Lucas finally goes it’ll give her some of the comfort she’ll need to carry on helping those who are like him. Or so she tells me.’
Though most of the room was in shadow, she could see the pain deep in his eyes, and knew that at that moment it would be wrong for her to speak.
‘I suppose the press’ll be back on her doorstep when that happens,’ he went on, ‘but until then I’ve got an arrangement with them: my scandal for their silence. All the rubbish Lionel makes up sells more papers than a handicapped child, so they’re happy to run it, and on the whole Karen’s not bothered by anyone looking for a new angle on the John Rossmore story. She doesn’t want Lucas exploited that way, and nor do I.’
There was a tense, almost unbearable moment, as Carla tried to imagine how terrible this tragedy had been for him, but how could she when it was beyond anything she’d ever known?
‘Karen and I broke up almost seven years ago,’ he continued, ‘and though I’ve never stopped loving her, I can now finally say, hand on heart, that I’m no longer in love with her. It’s taken a long time to get there, and frankly, there’ve been times along the way when I thought I’d never stop wanting her and our marriage back. That’s not to say everything was perfect between us, because it wasn’t. The strain of having a child like Lucas takes its toll on a marriage, and there was a lot of blame and resentment and guilt to be dealt with before I finally agreed to go. She’s never cut me out of his life though, and he knows very well that I’m his father. He can even say the word, though you wouldn’t recognize it unless you were used to hearing him speak. Karen called today because he was upset that he hadn’t seen me, and she thought it might help him to hear my voice. I think it worked. It usually does, but believe me, I live in constant fear that something will happen while I’m away and he’ll die thinking I’ve left him.’
He took a breath, and his face looked almost haggard as he glanced at his watch. ‘So there you have the truth about Karen and Lucas,’ he said. ‘We’re surviving the best we can, and compared to some we’ve a lot to be thankful for. But it hasn’t been easy, which is why I’m not going to get on your case about Richard, because I know how everyone needs their own time to come to terms with pain and disappointment, and if you still love him I’m not going to try to force you into a relationship with me. We just need to be adult about this, and find a way of working together if we can, or dissolving my contract if we can’t. It’s your call. Let me know what you decide, but I want you to consider this when you’re thinking it over: first, you’re the only woman I’ve felt this strongly about since Karen and I broke up. That in itself’s a pressure, I know, but I think there’s a chance we could be good together, though frankly I don’t even want to try while you’re still in love with another man. And second, for as long as he’s alive Lucas will always come first.’
Seconds later the door closed behind him, leaving Carla reeling from all the emotions he’d just put her through. Worst of all was the shame she felt for allowing her insecurity and foolishness to hurt him the way she had, when he was such a good man, with real kindness and integrity, and just didn’t deserve any more pain. She should never have let him leave here without telling him how sorry she was for doubting him, nor should another minute go by with him believing she still loved Richard. But though she desperately wanted to go after him, now wasn’t the time. She’d have to wait, talk to him later, when he returned from the shoot.
Slumping down in the chair behind her, she sat in the small orange glow of a lamp, and thought of the way she’d panicked earlier when Richard had tried to say goodbye. How trivial her experience with Richard now seemed, in the light of John’s with Karen and Lucas, but at least it had made her see that it wasn’t love that had made her send a message back to Richard, it was the wretched perversity of considering him a safe haven when she’d thought she’d needed somewhere to hide from the pain of more treachery and deceit. Just to think of John in that vein appalled her now, but she hadn’t known about Lucas then, so was still fearing all men were like Richard. Which only made trying to run back to him so much more pathetic, because it was like a victim turning to their abuser for comfort. God, how desperately she needed to get a grip on what was happening between them, for the man she’d reached out to was the man she’d known before he’d betrayed her
with Chrissie – a man who might very well never even have existed. With mounting dismay she thought about what he was now doing to Chrissie, for the emails he was sending were every bit as duplicitous as the relationships he was supposed to be having with the women Rosa had mentioned. It was odd, and infuriating, how that could still hurt, but she understood that if Rosa was being truthful, then, in its way, it meant he was betraying her all over again. So how many times was she going to allow it to happen? Just when was she going to strip him of his power to affect her? It had to be now. She couldn’t allow it to go on any longer, but as she started to open her computer to send him an email Avril came back into the room.
‘OK?’ she said, going to perch on the edge of the bed.
‘He told me about Lucas,’ Carla answered, turning to look at her.
Avril nodded. ‘I was just talking to Gus about it,’ she said. ‘He knew. Says everyone does, but they can be pretty sensitive when it comes to kids like Lucas, it seems. So, how have you left it?’
As Carla told her she reached for paper and pen and started to write.
‘What are you doing?’ Avril asked.
‘Leaving a note for him to find when he gets back.’
‘Saying what?’
‘That my feelings are every bit as strong as his, and that I totally understand Lucas will always come first.’
Avril frowned.
‘What? You think I should just take my things back over there?’
‘No, what I think is that you shouldn’t rush into anything. It’s not that I’m doubting your feelings, here and now, because I know you two have found something special, but for both your sakes you need to get Richard right out of your life, because John just doesn’t need to find out later that you made a mistake. Nor do you need to find out that you can’t handle playing second fiddle to Lucas. You’ve both been through enough, and this has all happened so fast between you, so why not wait just a couple of days, get back to London, let some normality return to the field, then see how you feel?’
Carla inhaled deeply, and gazed out at the moonlit ocean. Avril was right. If she wanted to be fair to John, and to herself, she needed to get some perspective on things before making any kind of commitment, no matter how clear it had all seemed a few moments ago.
‘I was about to email Richard when you came in,’ she said.
‘To say what?’
Carla gave a dry laugh. ‘The last part of his email, that we didn’t read the other day, was ending it all between us,’ she said. ‘Can you believe that? So, in a panic, I sent a message back virtually begging him to see me. Needless to say, I’ve changed my mind now.’ She paused, then said, ‘I really don’t want to see him, but at the same time I can’t help wondering if I’ll ever truly be able to move on if I don’t get at least some of the answers he owes me … It’ll always be there, in the back of my mind. Why did he let Chrissie tell me about them? Why didn’t he get in touch when Mum died? What made him send that email asking me to be godmother to his daughter? Was he ever here, in Zanzibar? Which reminds me, Paola says she didn’t see anyone with Chrissie either. And I asked Jaffah again, he’s absolutely positive Chrissie was alone.’
Avril was shaking her head. ‘So why would he say he was here if he wasn’t?’
‘And why would he end our relationship now?’
‘I wish I could say it’s mere coincidence,’ Avril answered, ‘but somehow I don’t think it is.’
Carla sat with that for a moment, then said, ‘You’re right, I owe it to John to make sure this is all completely behind me before I make any kind of commitment to him.’
Picking the phone up as it rang, Avril said, ‘Hello?’ She listened to the voice at the other end, then started to laugh. ‘She had it coming, but I’m sorry if you got it in the neck. I’ll buy you a drink to make up for it.’ Ringing off, she said, ‘Gus. Rosa’s just given him an ear-bashing about the article he wrote, and is threatening to sue him.’
‘She won’t get very far with that,’ Carla remarked, closing down her computer.
‘How can she, when he’s not going to print it? It was just a lesson she needed to learn in what a lying, malicious, disruptive old boot she is.’
‘She didn’t tell any lies today though.’
‘She did by omission, because she obviously knows John and Karen are divorced, but failed to tack the ex on the front of wife when she was merrily informing you he had one. Makes you wonder what she gets out of pissing people off, doesn’t it? Anyway, I promised Gus I’d try talking you and John into giving him an exclusive on your budding romance, and before you go flying off the handle, I know the timing’s not right at the moment, but it’s worth you remembering that everything John does is of interest to the public, especially his affairs. We know now that it’s part of the pact he has with the press to keep them away from Lucas, so maybe that’s something you should consider when you’re deciding how you want to proceed, because you know how particular you are about your privacy, and it’s pretty well guaranteed you can kiss it goodbye if you get involved with John Rossmore.’
‘Oh God, why can’t life be easier?’ Carla groaned.
Avril shrugged. ‘I don’t have much of a problem myself,’ she answered, pulling her T-shirt over her head. ‘Now I’m going to take a shower while … You get it,’ she said, as the phone rang again.
Half an hour later they were strolling through the lamplit gardens up to the hotel, watching big coral-coloured crabs scuttling over the path, and fireflies winking from the darkness of the trees. As usual the night was a-twitter with the buzz and squeal of nocturnal life, and the air was thick with the beautiful orangey scent of frangipani flowers. Carla was thinking of John, and trying to envisage the scene when she told him that everything was sorted out with Richard now, and that there was no doubt in her mind, no matter how famous he was, or committed to his son, it was definitely him she wanted. Smiling as she imagined his response, she gazed up at the starry night, and the glistening white palace walls with their onion-domed windows and red, purple and green stained glass, and said, ‘This place is such a paradise, it makes you wish you could stay here for ever, doesn’t it?’
Since neither of them had any way of foreseeing the terrible chaos that was waiting for them back in England, the wish, though heartfelt, was purely idle, and Carla couldn’t help laughing when Avril wryly responded, ‘Mmm, except by then I’d have learned the language.’
Chapter 21
SONYA COULDN’T REMEMBER ever being in such a terrible position. Keeping secrets never had been her strong point, and a secret like this was just too much for one person to handle, no matter who they were. It was keeping her awake at night, and making her feel very strange and frightened whenever she thought of it in the day. Normally she never kept anything from Mark, but there was just no way she could show him the letter she’d found, not when it was casting Valerie’s death into a whole new light that was so unbelievably ominous it made Sonya dizzy just to think of it. She’d never known anything like this to happen for real. It was the kind of story you read about in the paper with morbid, even gleeful, fascination, poring over the shocking and grisly details as though they’d been plucked from some fantastic field of fiction, rather than the devastating facts of a real person’s life. The people these things happened to were strangers, belonging to another kind of world, and though it was possible to feel horrified, and even traumatized, by their experiences, you then put down the paper, or turned off the telly, and got on with your life. To Sonya it was totally bewildering to know that this time she couldn’t.
The letter had surfaced just over a week ago, in the pocket of an old coat that had belonged to Valerie. All this time the coat had been squashed up behind a bundle of anoraks, fleeces and macs, at the back of a cupboard in Sonya’s hall. It was the coat Valerie often used to wear when taking Eddie for a walk, and Sonya had brought it here when Carla had been unable to bear seeing it around the cottage, because of how terribly she missed her mother
. Even after all this time Valerie’s scent was still on the coat, and had caused Sonya to shed a few tears when she’d put it on to take Eddie out herself. He’d been staying with them while Carla was away, and though Mark and the kids normally trotted him round the block, on that day Sonya had felt like some air, so had rummaged around for something warm, but not too smart, to put on, and had discovered the long-forgotten coat.
There was a very good chance that the single page Carla had come across in Valerie’s thesis was part of the same letter, but so far Sonya had been unable to find that page. She’d spent a whole day searching the cottage, so was pretty certain now that it was no longer there. Of course Carla might have taken it to London, though Sonya couldn’t think why, and she could hardly ask her when Carla would inevitably be curious, and Sonya wouldn’t know what to tell her. Certainly she couldn’t reveal the truth, presuming the conclusions she had drawn were the right ones. But what other explanation was there? Everything was written down, in Valerie’s own hand, and now Valerie was dead!
More fear and horror rose up in Sonya as she sat at her kitchen table, dreading what was going to happen next, and feeling intimidated by the letter’s very presence in the house. It was in the coat pocket again now, at the back of the cupboard. She hadn’t looked at it lately because she’d given up hope of it showing itself in a more innocuous light, one that would end up making her laugh at her mistake. There just wasn’t any other way to read it. The facts were there, lurid and chilling, and refusing to reveal anything but their grimmest meaning. It was written to Richard, though it was unlikely he’d ever seen it, or Sonya wouldn’t have spent the past week in the kind of state she was in now. If only Avril had come down for the weekend with Carla. She’d know what to do. But for some reason she’d stayed in London, and with Mark and the kids in bed with flu, Sonya could hardly go gallivanting off to town on what would appear to be a whim. Of course there was always the phone, but it just didn’t seem right to try dealing with something this big on the phone. Maybe she should find out if Avril was definitely coming next weekend. If she was, then Sonya might feel a bit better about her inaction, knowing it was going to end soon. And so much time had already gone by since the letter was written that a few more days surely couldn’t make much difference, even with Carla back at the cottage and intending to stay until Tuesday.
