He touched his cheek, lounging against the wall as she searched for the light switch. 'Oh come on, Jude, we both know there's not going to be any salvage,' he chided, softly. 'She scuttled the ship, and it sank too deep. I think the boyfriend she's been toying with has moved on to pastures new, making her temporarily insecure. I'm just an old habit she's tempted to take up again, for comfort. You know how hard it can be to break habits like that.' Stopping abruptly in the act of closing the door, he hesitated, swearing under his breath, then swung it open again with an exaggerated air of resignation so that Judith could see the large man slamming his way out of the pick-up truck slewed to a halt half on the opposite pavement. 'Right on cue! Here's your ex!'
Alarmed, Judith peered past him. Chest out and fists clenched, her ex-husband was barrelling across the road. 'Judith, there you are! I'm going to part your bloody head from your shoulders, girl!'
'I suppose I ought to offer to give you privacy,' Adam murmured, removing his hands from his pockets. 'But I can't leave you alone with a man with murder written so clearly on his face.'
Judith felt her lips turn numb. It wasn't that she was scared of Tom. But he could be very... scary. 'He's angry.'
'Seems so.'
Tom arrived with a clumsy jump up the two steps to the front door. 'Bitch!' he swore, slamming his two powerful fists against the doorframe. 'I can't believe what you've done! I thought even you would behave better than this!'
'Tom, you'd better come in and - '
Tom shook with fury. His voice dropped to a malevolent hiss as he talked rudely over Judith's attempt at diplomacy. 'This evening I've been harangued and insulted by that Sutherland bloke, trying to find Kieran! After blood, he is! Because my son Kieran who got the man's young daughter pregnant, a girl who subsequently suffered a stillbirth, has now run off with her!' He struggled for control. 'And you knew! You knew, just like you knew about my grandchild, and you didn't tell me!'
Pinpricks of sweat sprung out on Judith's face. 'I didn't!' Then she amended hastily, 'Well, yes, I did know about the baby, but I know nothing about them going away together.'
Punctuating his words with his fists against the doorframe, Tom blazed, 'He's my son! Not yours!'
This inarguable truth made her very still. 'I know,' she whispered, miserably. She forced herself to meet Tom's infuriated glare. His face was puce and his eyes bulging, he looked as if he might be flung to the floor by the giant hand of a heart attack at any moment.
His eyes narrowed meanly. 'And Aaron was my grandchild, not yours! You meddling, interfering mare.' His breath bunched up and began to come in gasps between insults. 'It was you who spoilt him rotten,' gasp, 'made him so wishy-washy he was too scared of me to bring me his troubles!' Gasp. 'Well, I hope you're happy now? Because they're gone! Both of them. She's disappeared from her home and Kieran's room has been emptied! Her poor parents are out of their minds!'
He paused, heaving for breath, spittle dotting his livid lips, teeth bared. 'Be truthful. Do you know where they are?'
She shook her head. 'I haven't seen either of them since the day of the funeral.'
Snorting his scepticism, Tom shook his fist under her nose. 'If I ever find out you know where they are and don't tell me, by Christ I'll - '
'Enough.' Adam pushed Judith coolly behind him, grey eyes steady. 'You're crossing boundaries. You need to calm down.'
Tom crowed for breath. 'Calm down? I could kill her - '
'No, you couldn't,' Adam corrected softly. 'Not while I'm here.'
Tom glowered into his face. He lowered his head at Judith head like an animal considering a charge. 'Who's this joker? A new boyfriend?'
'No one who concerns you.'
Tom stared for several seconds. 'Bloody bitch!' Then he was spinning away, stumbling down the steps, slamming into his pick-up and stampeding off like an enraged rhino.
A silence enveloped them. Adam pushed the door shut. 'That was pretty awful. You OK?'
She nodded, fearing to speak in case it let the tears out.
'You're shaking.' He slid his arms around her, giving her shoulders a reassuring squeeze.
She nodded again, and let her head rest against the warmth of his shoulder. A great wave of reaction shook through her as she clung on to his mist-dampened jacket. Tom had been so venomous that she'd found herself actually frightened. Judith, who'd seen enough of his temper over the years to be desensitised. The violence of his anger had shaken her.
In the unlit hall the smell of the winter's night rose from their clothes, mingling with the typical wedding fare of sherry, champagne and wine, and Adam's aftershave. 'You're OK,' he murmured. 'You're OK. He was scary, but he'll calm down.'
Her head jerked up, recalling Tom's words abruptly. 'My God, where can have Kieran and Bethan have gone? What if something happens to them?'
Adam breathed a laugh, tightening his embrace and pulling her head back down to his shoulder. 'Try not to worry, they're probably supremely happy in some love nest bedsit at this very moment, snug and safe from all the endless parental outrage. Eating chips from the paper because they haven't got plates. Finally able to comfort each other over Aaron and trash everyone else's feelings.'
She let his warmth comfort her as she breathed him in. His good sense made her pause and think, the picture he painted reassuringly credible. Kieran was of his generation. Made a mess of things? Throw that life away, and begin another... Go on, mate, no one can stop you. You got rights, you know. The police won't drag your girlfriend home at her age. You're not doing anything against the law. And no one knows where you are, do they?
Gradually the constriction eased from her throat, and her trembling eased, her mind clearing. Tom was angry. Well, that was nothing new. Kieran had 'done a moonlight'. Not altogether unexpected, she supposed, a bit underhand, not very brave, but he wasn't good at confrontation. 'I wonder whether Tom's right, whether it is the way I brought him up that made him wishy-washy?'
He stroked her hair. 'If all his life he's had to face uncontrolled rages like the one we've just witnessed, I don't blame him for developing ways to avoid conflict. He's not wishy-washy. He's just gentle.'
She sighed and lifted her head, slowly this time. Light from the street shone through the fanlight of leaded glass above the door, illuminating the planes of Adam's face, light then shadow on the taut cheekbones and angular jaw, creating gleaming highlights in his eyes.
His arms slackened, as if he expected that she meant to step away. But the prospect of putting the customary distance between them made her feel hollow and bereft and instead of letting her arms slacken, she tightened them. She found her body relaxing against his. Softening.
He was solid and safe, but it was no seeking of security that made her nestle against his warmth.
For several moments, Adam seemed to hold his breath.
And then his embrace shifted subtly, and, somehow, the way he was holding her was no longer that of a friend. And the contact between their bodies wasn't incidental.
'Jude.' His whisper was a caress.
She looked into his face. And their lips touched. Softly. The merest brush.
Then he swooped, and pleasure prickled over her at the sensation of his tongue seeking hers while his urgent hands pressed her so close that she struggled for balance as the rhythm of his heartbeat gathered her up and made her head spin. No heart had beaten against hers since Giorgio's.
It felt... well, welcome home. No one since Giorgio had taken pleasure from her mouth. Adam's hand cradled her head and his hot, hard body pressed with passionate intensity that lifted her clear of the floor as if she were a lightweight. She was being kissed - she was kissing him back. And her bones were melting.
Suddenly unbearably hot and uncomfortably encumbered, she dropped her arms and shook off her coat. It made a scratchy, synthetic sound as it slithered down her arms to the tiled floor.
It seemed to bring him up short. He paused, his breathing all over the place. Like hers.
&nb
sp; She could hear his quirk of a smile in his voice as he steadied himself. 'I didn't mean to do that.' Another pause. 'At least, I didn't mean to do that yet. Because Giorgio - ' Then, gently, 'You're not wearing his crucifix.'
'It's the first day I've left it off.' And it felt odd not to be aware of it moving against her skin. She shook her head. 'I don't know... The letter made me feel different.' She didn't try to explain how.
His embrace slackened. 'I leapt on you. If you want me to apologise, then I do. It's been a long time, and I miss...'
Her embrace tightened, her voice husky. 'You miss human contact, the affection and pleasure of it. You miss being held. It's typical of you to kindly take the blame. But I leapt on you, too.'
After a moment he kissed her again, this time with extraordinary tenderness. 'I lost control. I've wanted you since you were a stroppy fifth year. I've built up quite a yen.'
Her face heated in the darkness. 'You hardly noticed me!'
He laughed, stroking her hair back, the back of his hand brushing her cheek. 'I noticed all right! I noticed whether you wore a ponytail or a plait, black shoes or brown. I also noticed that after our riveting conversation about Polos, you looked away whenever I tried to catch your eye. And you were more than two years younger. They were pretty sinful thoughts I had - about a fifteen-year-old.'
He flicked his tongue to the corner of her mouth and she heard a tiny groan that must've come from her. 'I couldn't look at you. I wanted you to talk to me again so much.'
His lips moved to her eyelids, her temples, exploring her in the dark. 'Tell me how you're feeling.'
'I feel alone,' she whispered, giving in to the honesty of the moment. 'And so weary. Of Tom's fury and Kieran's despair, Molly's unhappiness. Mum's defencelessness. I'm tired of being strong for them all. I want... to be comforted.'
Adam was more frank. 'I want to go to bed with you.'
Adam made love to her with total concentration and all of his body. Apart from his right hand, which was pretty much excluded from the party.
In her bedroom that used to be his, he undressed her slowly. First her uncomfortable shoes, then the bodice of her dress, and the forest-green ribbon lacing at the front. 'There's a zip,' she pointed out, trying to guide his hand. 'You don't have to struggle with the ribbon.'
He smiled, easing her away. 'But I've been fantasising about this all day.' He plucked at the ribbon, pulling it slowly through each loop with a whisper of sound, fumbling sometimes with its slipperiness, pausing to kiss the swell of her breasts as each fresh millimetre was exposed. 'Have you any idea how erotic it is, unravelling you?'
She shuddered, letting her head tip back. 'Pretty much.'
He laughed, pushing his hand through her hair so he could kiss her hard then kiss her gently, continuing to unfasten every possible fastening that would reveal her - including a left-handed struggle with her cream, satin bra - before sliding out of his own clothes. Until there was nothing left to prevent the delicious heat of flesh on flesh as he rolled her down to the lemon-yellow pillows.
Bliss. Judith gave herself up to the pleasure of being made love to by Adam.
He was tender but not shy. At all. He absorbed himself, engaging all of her senses, his lips coasting around her body as if to compensate for the loss of sensation from the missing fingertips on the right hand that he held away from her.
She watched him. His body was all bones and hollows, she could see how he was put together and the working of his muscles. Examine his little frown of concentration. Feel the warmth of him beneath her palms, the tickle of his body hair against her skin.
And when he poised himself above her, he looked down into her face as if checking that she wanted him to go on. Then he dipped his head to kiss her. And let his body sink over hers.
It wasn't really daylight until seven-thirty at that time of year. And she'd been awake and staring at the ceiling for an hour, the duvet pulled to her chin, when thin, pearly light stole around the curtain edges.
Then fingertips trickled across her ribcage, raising a swathe of goose-pimples in their wake. She turned her head on the cool cotton of the pillow. He was smiling, his hair falling in his eyes and more silver-streaked in the daylight, the bedclothes falling away to display whorls of grizzled chest hair. 'You're transparent,' he observed.
She raised her eyebrows.
'I can read every thought rolling around your head: where do we go from here? What have we done? What have we changed or sacrificed? Did I want to wake up with him? What will he think this means - that he has some rights over me? Will he expect to make love again this morning?' His smile twitched. 'He's nice and warm to put my feet on?'
She hadn't noticed that the soles of her feet had found a cosy home against his warm flesh. She flexed slightly, feeling the brush of his leg hair.
He slid closer. The smile faded. 'Where do we go from here?'
She looked away. And tried not to hear the tiny change in his breathing that wasn't quite a sigh. 'It was too soon for you,' his tone was suddenly flat. 'The cold light of day has made you wretched. You're thinking of Giorgio. The guilt's killing you.'
She wriggled around to face him, trying to be honest with his grey-eyed gaze. 'I'm not wretched, and I certainly don't regret the lovemaking. In fact, I feel... at peace. As if, for months, I've been wound up in elastic bands, and now you've picked them all off. As to guilt...' She drew a breath. 'I think my only guilt is in not feeling guilty. I do understand that Giorgio's gone. And you?'
His eyes smiled. 'No guilt,' he decided firmly, his hand moving on to the roundness of her stomach. 'I'm the man - I feel smug.' His fingertips began to make tiny circles. 'But I do feel strange. Special. As if I'm beginning a clean slate. As if that were my first time.' His hand slid lower.
She put her hand on his wrist, feeling the coarse hairs on top and the softness of the underside. 'You didn't perform like a first-timer.' She sighed. 'But what do you want? Because we might not want the same things. I'm afraid you might be more ready than I am for a normal relationship.'
His hand continued on its journey. 'Take your time. There's no rush to decide where we go next.'
She groaned. She should have explained before this. She only hadn't told him because she wanted to get her motives straightened out in her mind. She reached up to stroke his face, gently. 'Adam, I know where I'm going... back to Malta.'
His hand stilled.
Chapter Twenty-three
While Adam showered, Judith went down to begin breakfast, more to occupy her than because she was hungry. From the stairs, she noticed a folded piece of paper on the floor of the hall. It was scuffed and dirty, they must have walked over it in the darkness, last night.
She opened it out as she turned towards the kitchen. Then halted at the sight of Kieran's hurried handwriting.
Mum, I came round to see you, but forgot it's Adam's son's wedding today. I wanted to tell you that me and Beth are going away. We need to be together and don't want any more hassles from Beth's parents. I'm dead sorry I didn't get to see you, and will be in touch. Don't worry about me. Love you. Kieran.
She sliced bread and broke eggs mechanically, lips set, her heart banging angrily.
It seemed to her that between Tom McAllister and the Sutherlands they'd shoved her son away, and he'd gone without trusting her enough to tell her where. Did he and Bethan even have a place to go? Her eyes prickled threateningly, and she wiped the corners with the back of her hand. Guilt struck her that it was at her insistence they'd done the right thing and told Bethan's parents about the baby.
And look what a mess her parents had made with the knowledge! Forced Bethan to choose between them and Kieran.
It was all very fine Adam supposing that those two tender young kids were safe in some little love nest, but what if they weren't? She pictured them trying to live in Kieran's small car, surrounded with their bags, chilled to the bone. Or battling to stake a claim to a corner of some horrendous squat.
Kieran was
n't the type to stick up for himself in such a hurly burly environment, and Bethan would be scared to back him up. She was as much a softie as he was. Judith had a sudden vision of herself bursting into some squalid terrace with boarded windows and extracting Kieran from under the noses of the lawless and the hopeless.
She set about the eggs with unnecessary gusto, splashing her hands and wrists as she beat. Of course, technically, crucially, Kieran wasn't actually her son. That's what Tom said. Despite all those years of cuddles and bedtime stories, bruised knees kissed better and homework explained, Kieran had only been on loan to her. And, according to Tom, when she'd written her marriage off she'd written off Kieran with it.
Kieran could visit her as much as he liked, but Judith had no rights, no legal kinship.
Kin or not, she was pretty sure she wouldn't have driven Kieran away, if she'd been able to exert control over the situation.
She showed Adam the note when he came down. 'Perhaps I should have let them move in here. Then at least we'd all know where they were, and that they were OK.'
He squeezed her waist and kissed her hair. 'You can't put everything right for everyone, Jude. If they'd lived here they would've been under constant attack from Tom, and Bethan's parents. And so would you. You might've stood it, but could they?'
They sat facing each other at the table. Adam cut the corner from his toast and scooped up fluffy egg. He had no gizmo to fit around his hand and the knife was obviously a struggle. 'Are you going back to Malta for good?' His voice was casual.
She sighed, dragging her mind from whether Kieran and Bethan could actually have done what was best for them. 'It's an option.'
He waited, clear grey eyes fixed steadily upon her.
She sipped her coffee. She was aware that it was always the person who filled a silence with explanations who was considered the weaker negotiator. And she was aware that, however obliquely, they were negotiating the terms of their relationship. 'I want to speak to Giorgio's daughter about the crucifix. It's becoming a burden instead of a comfort. I owe him and her some honesty.'
Uphill All The Way Page 18
