‘How dare you talk to me like that!’ William said with icy fury. ‘You think you’re an expert after one day’s teaching. I’ve been teaching for more than forty years. I know what I’m talking about.’
Rachel took a deep breath. She felt sick, her father’s domineering ways still intimidated her but she had to make her stand. She’d worked damn hard during her training. He couldn’t take that away from her.
‘No,’ she said. ‘You don’t. You’re a dinosaur. Your teaching methods are crude and out of date. You should have retired at sixty instead of clinging on to your little bit of power. You’re pathetic—’
Her father, his eyes two slits of fury, raised his hand and gave her a swift hard slap across the face. Rachel paled in shock.
‘Enough,’ William raged. ‘You have respect when you speak to me, my lady. Or you can get out of this house. Now get out of my sight.’
Rachel walked slowly upstairs. She was shocked. But in a strange way she felt triumphant. William was normally very restrained and reserved, even in his anger. He had hit her and that proved that she’d really provoked him. Her hurtful words had hit home. She was glad. The day would come when she would leave his house. But she would make the decision, not William. She would leave home when it suited her. She wasn’t going to waste good money paying rent. Not when she had a car to save for first, and then a mortgage. She would live frugally. She would save hard. And then she would go and never come back.
William would be retiring in another few years. The time would come when he would need her. Age was no respecter of people whether they be headmasters in village schools or not. But she would not be there when he needed her. And he would only have himself to blame.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Heathrow Airport was jam-packed. Huge snake-like queues formed at check-in desks. Paula’s heart sank. She left Jennifer to stand guard over their trolleys, filled to the brim with luggage, and sprinted along the concourse to the nearest monitor. Head thrown back, she searched for their flight number and check-in desk. All she could see were flights delayed or, even worse . . . cancelled. ‘Oh God, come on, now, don’t let me down. Please let our departure be on time,’ she muttered as she anxiously scanned the board. She recognized the flight number and gave a great sigh of relief. It was on time. She noted the number of the check-in desk. Now that they were on the last lap home, Paula couldn’t wait to get there.
She was dying to see Helen and her family. But most of all she wanted to get home to see Nick. Would all that time away have made any difference to his feelings towards her? When he saw her, would he finally realize that she was a woman now? Not just the teenager from next door who had cleaned his house for a bit of pocket money. Well more than pocket money, she chided herself. Nick had been extremely generous.
Jennifer was amazed at her excitement about going home. But Jennifer didn’t realize why Paula was so looking forward to it. The longing to see Nick was almost physical. She longed to have those incredibly blue eyes smile into hers. Longed to feel his mouth against her cheek and his arms around her in the hug he would surely give her when he welcomed her home. It would be so nice to savour the clean manly essence of him. And to hear his voice with that gorgeous soft sexy western accent . . . oh bliss, oh joy. Listening to Nick Russell speaking was a turn-on in itself. Although she had kissed quite a few men, and would no doubt kiss a few more, no kiss in her entire life would ever be as cherished as the kiss Nick had given her on the cheek that day he had said goodbye to her and wished her well on her last trip abroad. It had been months and months ago, but it was as though it had been yesterday. She had played it out in her head over and over again, all the time she was away.
Paula smiled happily as she made her way back to a patiently waiting Jennifer. If all went as planned she would have far more than kisses and daydreams. Nick Russell was going to fall head over heels in love with her if she had anything to do with it. And by God she was going to make sure of it. Once she had kissed him properly she’d blow his mind, she just knew it. And then she’d take him on that trip of ultimate pleasure and there would be no going back. Nick would be hers and she would be his and she would make him so happy and satisfied he would never ever want to look at another woman.
Juan Carlos had taught her much and for that she was very grateful. Her inexperience would not be a problem for her and Nick. She knew how to please a man and thanks to Juan Carlos, who had been an experienced lover, she knew how to please herself.
Jennifer couldn’t understand why Paula wasn’t devastated about leaving her Spanish Romeo. Paula had met him soon after they first arrived in Majorca. He owned an estate agent’s firm and he was very much the suave sophisticated man-about-town. He was drop-dead gorgeous-looking, with dark intense eyes and jet black hair. They clicked immediately and he had wooed her determinedly. When Paula had come back for a second tour of duty on the island, Juan Carlos was ecstatic. Then they became lovers. Paula had decided to sleep with him to see if it would make any difference to her feelings for Nick. In case it was just some silly teenage crush she had on him. It hadn’t made the slightest difference. Nick was still the man for her. Nevertheless, Paula enjoyed her affair with Juan Carlos. He was so crazy about her, he’d even flown out to the Canaries twice during the six weeks she and Jennifer were working there.
Juan Carlos proposed marriage more times than Paula’d had hot dinners, she remembered fondly. She’d miss him, of course. He’d been great fun and they’d had many happy times. But she didn’t ache for Juan, or crave being near him, or want to send him wild with passion and desire the way she did with Nick. As the time got nearer to their return to Ireland, whenever Juan Carlos made love to her, she’d closed her eyes and pretended it was Nick. Once, as she reached orgasm, she had actually breathed Nick’s name. Fortunately her lover had been making so much noise himself he hadn’t heard.
No, she would feel no enormous sadness at leaving Juan Carlos. She would miss him, but she wasn’t the least bit heartbroken. Actually, she was relieved to have ended the affair. Juan Carlos had become very demanding, sulking, because she wouldn’t accept his proposal. But he had never been part of her long-term plans. Only one man mattered to her. Nick was at home. Nick would be hers. It was meant to be. She just knew it.
‘Where do we go?’ Jennifer interrupted her reverie.
‘That one over there. Come on, let’s get going.’ Paula grabbed her trolley and strode towards their queue. ‘Can I have the window seat?’ she asked over her shoulder.
‘Sure,’ Jennifer agreed.
The wait seemed interminable before their luggage was finally disposed of and they had their boarding cards and were heading to the departure lounge and duty-free. Although she had a bottle of Chanel No. 5 in her luggage, Paula decided that she might as well treat herself to another one and on impulse she put another bottle of Hennessy brandy into the basket. That was for Nick. She had already bought him a bottle in one of the duty-free shops on the island, but what the hell, she’d buy him the moon if she could. She’d just flutter her eyelashes and pretend innocence if she was stopped at customs.
They were still queuing to pay for their last-minute goodies when they heard their final boarding call and had to stand, steaming with impatience, as the person in front fumbled with dollars and Deutschmarks, confusing a thoroughly irritated cashier. Then they had to run, panting, with their clanking bottles and hand luggage, the length of the departure lounge to their boarding gate and, eventually when they boarded and were settled into their seats, had to endure another thirty-minute wait on the tarmac.
‘If we get home it will be a blooming miracle,’ Paula fretted. Jennifer wiped perspiration off her forehead and gave a mighty yawn.
‘I’m knackered, I don’t want anything to drink when they come around. If we ever get into the air and they deign to come around at all. Wake me up when we get to Dublin.’ With that Jennifer gave another huge yawn, tucked her head down on her shoulder and within seconds was asleep.
Paula grinned. Jennifer had absolutely no staying power. Even though they had partied until dawn that morning, she felt full of beans and wide awake. But then she had a reason. A reason for happy anticipation. Today, hopefully, she would see Nick.
Paula settled back to while away the flight with her favourite fantasy. The fantasy in which Nick, eyes hot with passion and desire, mouth hungry and sensual, hands seeking and caressing, moulded her eager body to his. She would caress and fondle and stroke and kiss him, taking him to the edge, bringing him back, sending him wild with desire until he came inside her, shuddering with a powerful uncontrollable need that only she could satisfy. As the jet thundered along the runway and lifted itself into the air, Paula leaned back in her seat and gave a voluptuous stretch as delicious tingles of desire rippled through her. If she felt like this now, heaven only knew what she’d feel when she saw Nick for the first time in so long. She’d probably have an orgasm on the spot, she thought in amusement.
Never in her life had she felt such lust for a man. It frightened her a little. It meant she wasn’t in control. But that was the attraction Nick held for her. Not being in control in a relationship with a man was unique for Paula. She wanted much more than lust from a relationship with Nick. Everything about him fascinated and attracted her. His manliness, his kindness, his sense of humour, all drew her to him. He had the most beautiful manners too. Paula smiled, remembering how once when she had been about to lug the hoover down the stairs, he had taken it from her and walked downstairs ahead of her.
‘A gentleman always walks down the stairs in front of a lady in case she slips, so he will be there to catch her.’ Paula could remember the cultured voice of Sister Catherine teaching them etiquette. She’d thought it sounded so gallant. When Nick had gone out of his way to carry the hoover downstairs and walked in front of her, she had felt a warm glow inside. Sometimes when he’d been on his way to work and she’d been on her way to college, he’d given her a lift to the bus stop. He always opened the car door for her. Good manners were such an attractive trait in a man, she mused, glancing out the window and seeing cotton wool clouds beneath them. She had no time for feminists who scorned a man for giving a woman his seat in a crowded bus or train, and scorned the woman for taking it. Men were men, women were women and vive la différence, Paula maintained. Being equal did not mean being any less feminine. She was anyone’s equal and better than a lot. Some men, of course, overdid it. Juan Carlos would have prostrated himself at her feet and let her walk all over him, he was so smitten by her. It had been very irritating at times. If they had a row, he was the first to apologize. He was very appeasing. If she said black was white, he’d agree with her. Barry had been a bit like that too. She’d always got her own way with Barry. She’d always been in control. He’d been a bit of a doormat really, Paula reflected. There was no way she’d get her own way with Nick. Nick Russell was no doormat. Nick was the type of man who would never in a million years be impressed by one of her famous pouts or sulks. She could never see herself behaving with him the way she behaved with Juan Carlos or Barry or Conor. Badly!
Paula gave a wry smile, she knew she could be a snooty bitch if she didn’t get her own way. Nick wouldn’t take that from her and that was what made her want him so much. Nick would never succumb to her flirting and coquetry. She’d tried that already and it hadn’t worked. Much to her dismay. Nick had just treated her like a silly teenager. Teasing her about her boyfriends, and the length of time she spent on Helen’s phone to her girlfriends. And all the time she had badly wanted him to treat her like an adult. The way he treated Helen.
Paula envied her aunt those long conversations with Nick in the garden or over coffee. She envied their relaxed easy way with each other and the bond they shared because of being betrayed by their respective spouses. She loved the way Nick kept an eye out for Helen. He was great for fixing her drains or cleaning gutters or starting her car when the battery was flat. He was a kind neighbour, that was for sure, and her aunt was lucky to have him. Lots of men just wouldn’t bother.
A horrific thought struck her. What if she discovered that he had acquired a girlfriend during the time she was away? That would be her worst nightmare. And had been all the time she had lived next door to him. He was such an attractive man, she couldn’t understand why women weren’t throwing themselves at him in droves. She’d never seen him bring a woman home to the house while she’d worked for him. He’d never said that he was seeing someone or going to dinner or the pictures or the theatre with a date. But then he was consumed by that damned job of his. And, she reasoned, after finding his wife in bed with his best friend he probably wanted nothing to do with women. Time healed all wounds, or so they said. Maybe when she was away, he’d met a woman who would make him forget the hurt and pain he’d suffered.
Paula gave a deep sigh, her previous high evaporating rapidly. She wanted to make him forget his hurt and pain. She wanted to make him happier than he had ever been in his life. If only he would give her the chance. She wouldn’t badger him about his working hours the way his wife had. Paula understood his commitment to his job. It was a very responsible job, it was part and parcel of what he was, she could understand that. A nagging partner she would not be.
She’d have to give up being a courier though, if she and Nick got together. She couldn’t be off gallivanting on the continent. She wanted to be with him. When she got home she was going to have a meeting with Kieran. She had suggestions to make. She’d kept her eyes open all the while she’d been working. There were policies TransCon could implement that would increase their business. She’d seen some interesting concepts that she thought her boss should seriously consider. It was exciting. She was dying to get Kieran on his own and have a good talk about her ideas. Miss Johnson insisted on calling him Mister Donnelly. It drove Kieran mad, none of the rest of the staff called him that. He always had time for a chat when he met staff and he listened to comments and suggestions. Well she had plenty of comments and suggestions for him, she thought happily as the plane began its final descent into Dublin.
Bubbles of excitement fizzed through her as she peered eagerly out the window. She could see the coastline of Ireland on her left with its patchwork of green and earthy brown fields. After the parched volcanic landscape of Tenerife, it was a delight to look at. Dun Laoghaire appeared and Paula could see a ferry sailing serenely towards the harbour. Then the twin red and white tipped ESB chimneys in Dublin Port came into view, and she knew she really was home. Excitement mounted. ‘Wake up, Jenny, we’re home. Look, look, there’s Howth. Look at the sea, Jenny. Oh, look, there’s the airport . . . ooohhh I can’t wait to see them all.’ The words tumbled out as she craned her neck to see everything. The plane was swaying gently from side to side, the flaps were down, her ears were popping, but she didn’t care. Nick, Nick, here I come, her heart sang. A brainwave struck her. Helen was collecting her. They’d be home by two. Nick was never home early on a Friday. So after she’d had lunch with her aunt and a good long chat, she could nip into Nick’s with the brandy and the gorgeous cashmere jumper she’d bought him and leave it on the table for him and then he’d have to call into Helen’s to see her.
The edge of the runway appeared and then they were skimming over it, then a bump and they were down. The green perimeter whizzed past, then the jet began to slow and the terminal appeared. Paula was so excited that she had her seat belt unfastened and her and Jennifer’s hand luggage and duty-free all ready before the plane drew to a halt. She was in a frenzy of impatience as she waited for their luggage to appear. ‘Would you calm down?’ Jennifer grinned.
‘I can’t help it,’ Paula said happily. ‘It’s just great to be home.’
‘Do I look all right?’ Jennifer asked anxiously. ‘I hope Ronan was able to get time off, I’ll be terribly disappointed if he’s not here.’
‘Come on, let’s go freshen up. This place is a mad house,’ Paula suggested.
‘Well it is Christmas. It’s cold, isn’t
it?’ Jennifer shivered. Their blood was thinned from months in the sun and, despite the stuffy air in the arrivals hall, she was freezing.
‘It’s gorgeous,’ Paula declared over her shoulder as they made their way through the crowds to the loo. They brushed their hair, retouched their make-up, assured each other that their tans hadn’t faded and headed back out to the carousel. The baggage had come through and they loaded their trolleys and headed for customs. Paula swanned along, head up, pushing her trolley, her hand protectively on her bag of brandy bottles lying at the front so they wouldn’t clank. Jennifer, who looked as guilty as hell, careered along beside her, her trolley all over the place.
‘Smile, for God’s sake,’ Paula hissed. Jennifer smiled, and almost collided with a pushchair.
‘Blasted yoke,’ she scowled. They emerged through customs, unscathed.
‘Ronan’s here!’ Jennifer squealed, pointing through the brown-tinted doors to the thronged barriers. Her face wreathed in smiles, she half ran towards the doors. Lucky you, Paula thought enviously at the expression of pure happiness that shone in Jennifer’s face. Imagine having Nick waiting for her and to be able to run into his arms. She scanned the smiling faces along the barrier and her breath caught in her throat. He was there! Nick was there! She couldn’t believe it. Nick was there standing beside Helen, smiling at her with that crinkly much-loved smile which made her want to fling herself into his arms and say ‘I love you’ over and over again. He must have taken a half-day to come and meet her. He must have been looking forward to seeing her as much as she was looking forward to seeing him. He must love her too, she thought, deliriously happy. Abandoning her trolley, Paula raced over and hugged the daylights out of Helen. Then, with happiness sparkling in her eyes, she threw herself into Nick’s arms and felt his tighten around her. She buried her face in his neck and cheek and heard him say, ‘Welcome home, Paula. It’s great to see you.’ The joy of hearing his voice, of having his arms around her, of feeling the reassuring bulk of his body against her was indescribable. She knew this was the happiest moment of her life.
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