She wasn’t interested in anything he had to say. She really ought to just give them back to him, unopened. But then curiosity got the better of her and she read them.
The first one was a letter.
Hand-written. In fountain-pen, of course—James wouldn’t use a cheap and cheerful ballpen.
But he’d clearly spent time over it. He hadn’t typed it or sent an email. This was personal. And when she read it, she realised he was being sincere. Really laying himself open.
I’m so sorry about all the mess in the papers. I can’t change the past but, if I could, I’d go back and do things differently.
Yeah. So would she.
I can’t use my training to support your work at the centre, because I realised that women who come to you for help will probably want to see a female doctor. But if there’s anything else I can do, whether if it’s licking stamps and sticking them on envelopes, or delivering flyers by hand, or cleaning the clinic and helping you lock up at the end of a session, just tell me and I’ll do it.
She smiled wryly. Hotshot surgeon James, licking stamps and wielding a feather duster? Surreal. Though she knew he meant it.
There’s a cheque in the other envelope. I’m not trying to be flash or buy you off, it’s just the only thing I know how to do. And it will buy you training for volunteers. I hope that will go some way to making up the time you’ve missed this week.
Quickly, she ripped open the second envelope. There was a cheque, written out to the centre. She blinked at the size of it: this really would make a difference.
It was probably small change to a man like James, a man from such a wealthy background.
Then again, he’d been under no obligation to do this.
She turned back to the letter.
I miss you more than I ever thought was possible. There’s a big hole in my life shaped like you, and I don’t know how to begin to fill it because nobody else will do.
There was a lump in her throat as she read on.
But I understand that you want me to stay away, and I’ll respect your wishes. I hope you find happiness in the future; I just wish it could have been with me.
She dragged in a breath and Pandora leaped onto her lap, purring.
‘He misses me, Pandora.’ And, if she was honest with herself, she missed him.
Pandora purred, as if saying that she did, too.
‘And he sent me the cheque privately. He didn’t have an art department mock up a gigantic cheque on featherboard and get the press there to take photographs and splash the story about. So he must have listened to what I said. He’s trying to show me that he can do something good without being flashy.’ She bit her lip. ‘I was a bit hard on him.’ Because she’d been so angry. And because she hadn’t been honest with him before the ball, told him exactly why she didn’t want publicity, he wouldn’t have a clue why she was so angry. ‘I think I owe him an explanation.’
The cat purred her agreement.
‘I could ring him…but I think this is the kind of conversation I need to have face to face with him.’ She paused. ‘I’m sorry for deserting you again this evening, but I really ought to go and see him.’
Pandora simply rubbed against her and jumped off her lap, as if saying that she understood.
Charlotte checked the cat’s water dish and put some extra biscuits in Pandora’s food bowl.
When she opened the front door, to her relief, the paparazzi were nowhere to be seen. All the same, she took a circuitous route when she drove over to the waterside development where James lived.
Her heart was beating so hard as she walked up the steps to his front door, she was sure people must be able to hear it. Taking a deep breath, she rang the bell. Hopefully James was in—and would answer.
James thought about ignoring the doorbell—he wasn’t expecting anyone and he wasn’t in the mood for visitors—but then it rang again. Clearly whoever was out there wasn’t going to give up.
When he opened the front door, he blinked several times, trying to clear his vision. But when he looked again she was still there.
‘Charlotte?’
‘May I come in?’ she asked quietly.
‘Sure.’
She waited until he’d closed the door behind them. ‘I got your letter. And the cheque.’
‘Good.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Pleasure.’
‘And I owe you an apology.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Look, I know I’ve given you a hard time this week. I guess I overreacted.’
He shrugged. ‘Yes and no. You had a point—I do thrive on the attention of the press, probably because I’ve always been used to it. I never realised how intrusive it could be.’
‘It wasn’t just that.’ She bit her lip. ‘I didn’t want the press dragging up stuff about me.’
‘Stuff?’
‘About my past.’
James had a nasty feeling that he knew what she was going to tell him, and he didn’t want to hear it. He hated the idea that someone had hurt her. ‘Charlotte, you don’t have to confide in me.’
‘Actually, I do. I should’ve trusted you before. Because then you’d have understood why I didn’t want the national press there. I wasn’t being shy, James. I don’t want everyone at the hospital to stop seeing me as I am.’
He frowned. ‘I’m not with you. Why would they do that?’
‘It’s messy.’ She swallowed. ‘And I don’t usually talk about it.’
‘I’d pretty much worked out that something had happened to you,’ James said quietly. ‘So you don’t have to tell me. It’s why you were so wary of me when you first met me, and why you set up the centre. I can understand that.’ He sighed. ‘And I was so busy trying to do something to support you, I blocked out the fact that any publicity might pick up on your past and use it to hurt you.’
‘I told Steffie it happened to someone else.’ She bit her lip. ‘Which it did. I was a different person then.’
‘Of course that kind of experience would change you.’ He raked a hand through his hair, uncomfortable with the discussion and not wanting to drag up memories that hurt her. ‘Look, do you want a coffee or something?’
She shook her head. ‘But I do need to be honest with you. I, um, haven’t dated since…’ She hesitated, as if she couldn’t bear to speak the words. ‘You were the first man I kissed,’ she said eventually. ‘The first man I even considered sleeping with.’
‘And I let you down.’
She grimaced. ‘You weren’t in possession of all the facts.’
It was a more generous assessment than he felt he deserved.
‘If I’d trusted you with the truth about me, would you have involved the nationals?’ she asked.
He knew she was expecting him to say no. But she was being honest with him. He needed to be equally as straight with her. ‘Actually, I probably would,’ he said. ‘But I would’ve handled it differently. We would’ve stayed in the background, as the organisers. And I would’ve talked to you properly about it beforehand, asked you if you wanted me to mention anything about the centre.’
‘You would have listened to me?’
‘Yes. And I’m sorry for not listening before, for assuming that you were just hiding your light under a bushel and carrying on regardless.’
She swallowed hard. ‘That’s what Michael did.’
‘Michael?’ The use of the name shocked him. ‘You knew the guy?’
‘Most vict—’ She stopped short, shaking her head viciously. ‘No. I’m not a victim. I’m not going to let him make me think that way about myself. But, yeah, most people know their at-tackers.’ She dragged in a breath. ‘We’d dated a couple of times. I thought he was a nice guy. Charming, good-looking.’
James really didn’t like where this was heading. Terms that people had used about him, too.
‘Then one night we went out dancing.’
Just what he’d made her do. Dance with him. In front of a crowd. He loved the glittery, spa
rkly events and he’d thought she’d find them as much fun as he did. Yet, all the time, he’d been twisting the knife—and Charlotte had been fighting the bad memories in private.
‘He took me home, and I thought he was just going to kiss me goodnight and leave, but he started pushing me. I said no and he…’ She shuddered and wrapped her arms round herself. ‘He didn’t listen. And he was bigger than I was. I couldn’t fight him off.’
James didn’t know what to say. Or do. He’d never been in a situation like this, and he really didn’t want to make things harder for her. He’d already hurt her enough. The only thing he could do was act on his instincts and be honest, so he closed the gap between them and put his arms round her. ‘I know this is probably inappropriate. But I don’t know what to say or do,’ he said. ‘Other than that I want to beat him to a pulp for hurting you, and I want to hold you and protect you and make sure nobody ever hurts you again.’
‘I don’t need to be wrapped up in cotton wool. I just want to be treated decently.’
‘I hope you know that I’d never…’ He searched frantically for the right words, not wanting to make the situation harder for her.
‘I know you wouldn’t.’ Her voice shuddered. ‘But I never talk about it because I don’t want people to look at me in pity. Or to whisper and wonder if I led him on.’
He pulled back just far enough for her to be able to see his eyes—to know that he was telling her the truth. ‘I don’t pity you and I know that you didn’t lead him on. Nobody who knows you would ever pity you or make insinuations—sym-pathise, yes, but not look down on you.’ He dragged in a breath. ‘I’m sorry that you had to go through something so horrible, and I hate the thought of anyone treating you like that. But I admire the way you’ve held it together—and my guess is that anyone who works with you would see things the way I do. They’ll be on your side.’
‘I wasn’t very together at the time,’ she admitted. ‘I felt so grubby. So disgusting.’
‘You’re not disgusting. You’re brave and you’re beautiful,’ he said. ‘So you told the police?’
She nodded. ‘And I waived my right to anonymity. So it was in the papers.’
And she’d done that, knowing that the gutter press would try to dig up scandal? ‘I take back what I said about brave. More like superhumanly courageous.’
‘I just wanted to stop him doing it to anyone else,’ she said simply. ‘And the only way to do that, to get him the help he needed, was to…’ Her breath hitched. ‘I was so desperate for a shower. But I knew if I did, I’d get rid of the…of the evidence.’
He drew her closer. ‘You don’t have to tell me anything more.’
She was shivering. ‘I do. I need this to be in the open, or w’re Enot going to be able to move on from here. And I want to move on, James. I need to get past this. To go on with the rest of my life.’
With him?
He really, really hoped so.
‘It took me a while to call the police. I was shaking so hard I couldn’t dial the number. They came straight out, and they…they examined me. Questioned me.’ She shuddered. ‘I was lucky, because they believed me. One thing about having fair skin, you bruise easily.’
‘The bastard,’ James said, feeling his fists clench involuntarily. And he really, really wanted to give the guy back every single bruise he’d given Charlotte. With interest.
‘He needed help. People don’t behave like that unless they’re really damaged.’
‘You’ve got a more generous spirit than I have. I’d want the guy locked up and the key thrown away.’
‘I wanted that, too,’ she admitted. ‘I’m only human. But I’ve had counselling, and I’m in a place now where I can help others. And that’s why I wanted to set up the crisis centre. Because I’ve been there. I’ve come out the other side, and I want to help other people come out the other side, too.’
‘I understand that now. And I really admire you for doing it. Doesn’t it bring it all back to you, when you talk to women who’ve been in your situation?’
‘Sort of, but it’s slowly losing its power to hurt me.’ She rested her forehead against his chest. ‘There’s still part of me that feels unclean. Even though I scrubbed my skin until it bled after the police had been. And that’s why I don’t date.’
He pressed a kiss on the top of her head. ‘You’re not unclean. You’re strong and you’re brave and you’re gorgeous. And I’m humbled that you’ve trusted me with this. I’m not going to mention it to anyone—not because I pity you or think you led the guy on,’ he added, just to underline the point, ‘but because I respect your right to privacy. And if I’d had any idea, I would never, ever have put you in a situation like this.’
‘I’ve been reading the papers every day. Just waiting for them to…to put two and two together and bring it all up again.’
And, unlike him, she hadn’t grown up with media attention. Being its focus, like this, must be hell for her. ‘If it makes you feel any better, according to Great! magazine, you wouldn’t have sex with me if I was the last man on earth. They’re enjoying playing with that far too much to spend time digging up any dirt on you.’
She pulled back to look him in the eye. ‘So they’re being nasty about you?’
He gave a half-shrug. ‘They’ve done it before. I’ll live.’ She didn’t need to know that they’d run pictures of Sophia draped over various European hunks, all of whom she’d found preferable to him during their marriage. ‘They’ll have photos of someone else next week—someone who drank too much at a party or was a bit indiscreet on the beach—and that will be the new story. Everyone will forget about us.’
‘I hope so.’ She bit her lip. ‘It’s horrible when the whole hospital’s talking about you.’
He remembered people poring over the gossip magazines to get the next installment of the disaster of his marriage, the guilt on their faces and the way they’d hidden the magazines quickly when he’d walked into the room. The way that everywhere would go silent, and he’d known that they’d been discussing the mess of his so-called private life.
And no doubt it had been even worse for her. He at least was used to publicity and people talking about his family, whereas Charlotte was much more private. Professional, smiley—and kept her personal life completely under wraps. ‘Yeah. I know,’ he said softly, stroking her hair back from her forehead. ‘And I’m sorry I’ve made it worse for you.’
‘You didn’t do it on purpose.’
‘No. And I’d give a lot to be able to turn back time and change things.’ He paused. ‘But one thing I wouldn’t change is coming to Cornwall. Meeting you.’ He cupped her face briefly. ‘You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And I know I let you down, but if you give me the chance I’d like to make it up to you.’
‘That letter…you really meant it, didn’t you?’
He nodded. ‘It went through quite a few drafts. Even that one sounded wrong. As if I was trying to be smooth and smarm my way out of things. I know you think I’m flashy—’
‘You are flashy,’ she cut in dryly. ‘I bet you used an expensive fountain pen.’
‘Yes, and it was a twenty-first present from my grandmother.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘I don’t know if I can change all the glitzy stuff. But, for you, I’ll try.’
‘A new start.’
He nodded. ‘Look…I know this is going to sound completely inappropriate, but it’s not how I mean it. Have you eaten yet tonight?’
‘No.’
‘Neither have I. There’s salad in the fridge. How about I order a pizza to be delivered? Nothing flashy. Just you and me, spending a little time together.’
‘I’d like that,’ she said, and her smile made him feel warm for the first time in days.
She opted for mineral water rather than wine—seeing as she’d be driving back to her place later—and James was chopping vegetables for the salad when the doorbell went.
‘Do you want me to get that?’ she asked.
‘If you don’t mind. I paid by credit card, so you don’t have to worry about paying.’
Charlotte walked downstairs, opened the front door—and slammed it again in horror. Because it wasn’t the pizza delivery boy—there was a sea of paparazzi. Cameras flashing, people all talking at once at top volume and thrusting microphones towards her.
James must have heard the door slam, because he came straight down into the hall. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘Press.’
He groaned. ‘Charlotte, I’m so sorry. I have no idea how they knew you were here.’
‘Maybe one of them was outside when I arrived, and I didn’t notice.’
‘They’ll have staked out the back, too.’
‘Then how am I going to get home?’
He sighed. ‘I think w’re Ejust going to have to wait them out.’
‘I…Are you suggesting I stay the night?’ Panic skittered through her. Yes, she was attracted to him—but she wasn’t sure that she was ready to skip a few steps and stay overnight at his place.
He took her hand. ‘Look at me, Charlotte.’
She did so.
‘I promise you, I won’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with. I’m attracted to you and I want to—well, court you, I suppose. So I’m not going to take advantage of the situation. We’ll take things at your pace.’
The doorbell went again. ‘I’ll deal with this. Go into the kitchen and close the door,’ James directed. ‘They won’t hassle you there.’
She headed for the kitchen, and he appeared a few minutes later carrying a box. ‘Pizza,’ he said with a smile.
‘James, I’m sorry, but I’m not sure I could eat anything now.’ She closed her eyes. ‘Telling you as much as I did about my past, and now this…I’m not hungry any more.’
‘Trust me, the carbs will make you feel better. If you let your blood sugar dip, you’ll feel even worse.’ He dished up. ‘Help yourself to salad.’
She forced herself to take a couple of mouthfuls, to be polite. And, to her surprise, he was right. It did make her feel better.
Brides of Penhally Bay - Vol 4 Page 45
