by Shirley Wine
“Am I?” The dismissal made her do a slow burn.
Jared paused in mid-step and, there in the middle of the main corridor, turned her towards him. He held her shoulders in firm hands making her feel small and fragile.
“My parents may have wanted me to marry their friend’s daughter, but that was as far as it went.” He met her eyes squarely. “I saw first-hand, the misery such a marriage brings. Do you think I would do that to myself?”
You don’t want to know what I’m thinking.
The intrusive thought surprised her.
When did I begin questioning everything, looking for a base motive behind every act? When I learned people could lie and kill and show a smiling face to the world.
Jared’s lips thinned and his nostrils flared as he looked into her wary eyes.
“Marrying you was not a rebellious act. I married you because I loved you.”
If you loved me you would have cherished me, Jared, not left me at your mother’s mercy.
His fingers tightened their grip on her shoulders. “If you have something to say, Winsome say it. I’m getting tired of your silent, reproachful looks.”
“And I’m getting mighty tired of everything I say being treated as childish.”
“If Caroline wasn’t waiting for us to eat, I’d settle this now.” Jared’s eyes glinted dangerously. “It can wait until after we’ve eaten. She’s taking Lacey home for the night.”
“What?” Winsome stared at him, scandalised. “Without asking me?”
“I made a judgement call. You’re not exactly sick but you gave us one hell of a fright. An extra day’s rest won’t hurt you. Now let’s have this meal before it spoils.”
Agitated, Winsome followed Jared into their sitting room where Caroline was placing steaming dishes of vegetables on the table, Lacey helping, beaming with pride.
“Mummy, I’m going to have a sleepover with Nana Caroline.” Lacey ran to her side when she walked into the room. “She’s got a train bed that I can sleep in.”
Nana Caroline? A sleepover? Winsome sighed soundlessly. Lacey’s familiar appellation for the older woman was such a nice blend of friendliness and respect, how could she object?
“That sounds like fun,” Winsome said around the lump clogging her throat.
Even to her jaundiced eyes she could see how Lacey was thriving, revelling in Jared’s attention.
“Tomorrow Nana Caroline’s taking me to Dinsdale Zoo.” Lacey was unaware of the undercurrents of resentment and distrust. “Daddy says you can sleep all day again without having to worry about me.”
How could she squash this child’s happy anticipation of the promised treats because she would miss her? With a heavy ache in her heart, Winsome realised her little girl was growing up.
“Be sure you tell me all about it when you come home.”
Lacey’s chatter and excitement eased the strain during the meal. Caroline waved away their offers of help doing the clean-up and left them to talk to Lacey and read her a story.
When Caroline joined them Jared fetched Lacey’s bag and with mixed feelings Winsome accompanied them to the door, waving as Lacey went off without a backward glance.
Surreptitiously, she wiped a tear from her eye. Jared’s arm came around her shoulders.
“What’s the matter?” he asked as he guided her back inside the house.
“She’s never spent a night away from me before.”
“Ah,” he said with such sympathetic understanding, all Winsome wanted to do was to sit down and bawl her eyes out. “She’ll be back tomorrow.”
“I know that.” Nettled, Winsome hunched an offended shoulder. She knew Lacey would return tomorrow, but that didn’t make tonight any easier to accept. Did Jared not understand that these moments, when a child stepped outside a mother’s orbit of protectiveness, were exceedingly painful?
“All I know is it’s been far too long since we’ve spent time alone.” He put a hand under chin and lifted her face so she was forced to look into his eyes. “Tonight we have this whole empty mausoleum to ourselves, Winsome. No Lacey, no interruptions, just you and I.”
Apprehension coiled her insides into knots.
This was it, the moment of reckoning.
She wanted nothing more than to run away, to put as much distance between herself and this moment as possible.
Walking away from a confrontation gives the other person the power. The gruff voice was very close. Is that what you want?
No, damn it, it wasn’t what she wanted.
“There’s never been a time when there’s been just you and I.”
That jerked Jared’s head up, amber eyes glittering. “I think you need to clarify that statement.”
Anger curled inside Winsome. “By all means, but I have no intention of standing in this draughty hall indulging in a slanging match.”
With a regal lift of her chin, she walked into the sitting room. Jared closed the door, shutting out the chill, and then stalked across to the fire and threw on another couple of logs.
“Would you like something to drink?” He crossed to the sideboard.
“A whisky would be nice.”
His eyebrows lifted and for a moment she thought he was going to question her choice. He shrugged and poured two whiskies, bringing hers over. She accepted hers with a nod of thanks.
The silence was oppressive.
“Explain that crack.” Jared broke the moment.
The terse order set Winsome’s temper simmering. She was the person wronged.
“From the moment you brought me here, we’ve never had any time alone, Jared. I was the unwelcome guest in Gaelen’s house.”
“We had our own private apartment.”
Winsome laughed scornfully. “What privacy? I couldn’t make a cup of tea without Gaelen overseeing it. Your idea of privacy is obviously different to mine.”
“It was the best I could do.”
Looking at him Winsome shook her head in despair. She sipped the whisky welcoming the fiery trail it carved down her throat.
“Why couldn’t we have lived in a cottage on a neighbouring farm?”
“A Grainger lives on Totara Park.”
Jared’s injured dignity made Winsome shiver.
“Listen to yourself.” She put her glass on a side table and stood up, unable to bear the inactivity moment longer. “Listen to yourself, Jared. It’s little wonder you’re choked full of pride. You’re a Grainger. Whoop–de-do. Are you more exalted than us common creatures?”
Jared eyes narrowed and his lips thinned. “I have never thought myself better than anyone else. This is about your own sense of security, or lack of it.”
“Never.” She lifted her hands. How could she make him understand?
“Then what?” He leaned back in his chair. “For heaven’s sake, sit down.”
The terse, words made her flush. Gingerly, she sat. Her hand trembled as she picked up her drink. It was Dutch courage but she needed it.
“Talk to me, Winsome.”
“I tried so hard to talk to you.” Her jagged whisper was loud in the tension-laden silence. “You never heard what I said.”
“I’m listening now.”
“Now that it’s too late to save Matthew.”
Her anguish made guilt spike his soul. “What happened? Help me understand.”
“How can I? How can I make you understand when I don’t?”
Jared came and sat on the arm of her chair and caught one of her agitated hands and held it tightly. “Try, Winsome,” he said quietly. “What happened after I left you that morning?”
In an instant her mind was back to that fateful morning.
“Matthew wanted his breakfast. You know how he was with food.”
“A greedy little pig,” Jared said conversationally.
“He wasn’t a pig.” Winsome fired up in defence of her beloved child before she realised Jared was teasing. “He was wasn’t he? But I loved him, Jared.” Her voice rose to a grief stric
ken wail. “I loved Matthew so much.”
The grief she’d held in her heart for so long burst its self-imposed banks.
“I know you did, sweetheart.” Jared’s gravelly voice had a decided break as he lifted her, and then sat down, Winsome in his lap. “I know you loved him.”
That was all it took. Cradled in Jared’s arms, Winsome finally shared her grief, mourning the laughing little boy who, for such a short time, had been the focus of both their lives.
At last their tears were spent. Jared’s ragged breathing let her know his tears had mingled with hers. She felt empty but in a strange way empowered.
They’d both needed the release. Who else but the man who’d given her that beloved child could ever understand the depth of pain that his death had brought.
“I’m sorry.”
“No I’m sorry,” Jared’s voice was rough with emotion. “I failed you and Matthew.”
Jared may have failed you, but by your silence, you failed him too. A familiar gruff voice ghosted through her mind.
“I should have told you what was happening.”
He set her away from him. “Why didn’t you?”
Winsome fiddled with the button of his shirt. “I was young, scared and ill-equipped to deal with Gaelen.”
“What happened the day Matthew died, Winsome?” His sober look set her heart racing. “I need to know.”
Of course he did. Yesterday Quentin had exploded the myth of Matthew’s death being a tragic accident. And in doing do, shaken the foundations of Jared’s life.
“I’d been sick?” She looked up and saw his nod. “At breakfast, I was sick again.”
Jared gripped shoulder, the touch steadying her.
“I returned to finish feeding Matthew and Gaelen realised I was pregnant and started in on me.”
“What did she say?”
She blurted out raggedly, “She called me your little whore and asked if I was pregnant again.”
Jared stiffened, his eyes glistening with anger.
“She always called me that, and worse, when you weren’t there.” The words came out in a rush. It was harder than she’d ever imagined.
“What else?” he asked when she lapsed into silence.
“As her insults grew worse, Quentin got angry but Gaelen laughed at him.”
“He had a huge crush on you.” Jared smiled with grim humour. “What did he say?”
“The usual.” Winsome shrugged and spread her hands.
“And what was the usual?” His quiet persistence made her realise he intended to know every last detail.
“He told her you would be livid if you knew how she treated me behind your back.” She spread her hands again and she looked at him, her eyes stormy. “Then he turned on me asking why I didn’t tell you?”
Winsome looked down at her hands, gnawed by guilt.
“Why didn’t you tell me, Winsome?”
“Because your mother was right.” She looked up at him, beseeching him to understand. “I was scared—”
Her voice faded. Winsome couldn’t bear to put her fear into words.
Jared had no such compunction. “That when I found out your father had murdered your mother I would stop loving you?”
“Something like that.” She refused to look at him waiting for the question she dreaded. But he surprised her.
“Did Quentin threaten her?”
Startled, she looked at him. “He may have, I don’t remember. It was a long time ago.”
“Maybe, but I’ve forgotten few details and I’m willing to bet you haven’t either.”
His accuracy made her flush guiltily. Jared only had his mother’s lies to go by. Now he was asking for the truth, albeit five years too late, but he was asking.
“Quentin followed me to the laundry and asked me outright if Gaelen was blackmailing me. When I admitted she was, he said he intended to tell you and Harvey what was going on.”
“Did my mother overhear him?”
That was so unexpected she just stared at him, frowning, nibbling on her lower lip. “Who knows? Gaelen was very much queen of her castle and a very clever spy.”
Jared watched her intently. “Did you see Quentin again that morning?”
“No, why?”
“You’re very sure about that?”
“Absolutely. He went to school on the bus as usual.” Winsome looked at Jared with misgiving. “What’s this all about?”
“Mother said she caught you and Quentin making love that morning.”
For several moments she stared at him, her mouth agape then anger fizzed through her with lightening speed. Was there no end to Gaelen’s mischief?
“That’s an evil lie.” She leaped off his knee, staring at him in wounded outrage. “Was that why she told Paige Lacey wasn’t your child?”
“I’d say so.” Jared got to his feet and walked over to the sideboard and poured another whisky before he turned back to face her.
“When did she tell you that?” Winsome demanded.
“After you left.” He downed the whisky in one swallow.
“And you believed her?”
“No, but I did ask Quentin.” Jared laughed, the jeering sound made her skin crawl. “He threatened to knock my teeth down my throat. I’ve never seen him so incensed.”
“I can’t say I blame him.” Winsome rubbed her hands up her arms, sick to her soul. How could any mother tell such hideous lies about her own child?
“And any lingering doubt died the night of Dad’s funeral.” Jared crossed the space and took her trembling hand in his. “So what happened then?”
“After I’d done the chores, Matthew started grizzling.” She looked at Jared her expression stark. “He was teething and grumpy so after his morning snack, I put him down for a nap. I was so ill, I asked Gaelen if she’d listen for him while I went in to see Clinton. I expected to be home long before he would wake.”
Her words echoed in the strained silence.
“Gaelen babysat for us countless times, Jared.” She lifted a shaking hand to her throat. “How could I ever guess that this time would be different?”
“You couldn’t, Winsome.” His hands settled on her shoulders massaging the stiff muscles. “But it was different. What happened? Tell me the rest of it.”
“Gaelen asked me to do some messages and that took me longer. When I got back I went straight to check on Matthew and found his cot empty. I left the few things I’d bought on the dresser and went looking for him—
Winsome pulled away from Jared, suddenly unable to bear his touch.
“And?”
“Gaelen was in the lounge crocheting but I couldn’t see Matthew.” She stared sightlessly into the past, shoulders rigid. “That’s when she told me—” She broke off and buried her face in her hands. “She told me—”
The awful, ugly words refused to form.
“Don’t,” he whispered his hands warm and reassuring on her shoulders. “You never have to say it again.”
Winsome slumped. In her anger she’d screamed those words at Jared but now, they were too terrible to repeat. “The rest you know.”
She has that right.
Jared was suddenly consumed with guilt, hot and tight all over as he remembered the dreadful accusations he’d flung at her that day. He pulled away and walked across the room his hands buried in his pockets.
Suddenly, the past was between them, in all its ugliness.
“I wasn’t reading,” Winsome spun around to face him, fired up at the injustice of that accusation. “Your mother set that scene.”
“I realise that now.” He spread his hands palm upwards and looked at her his expression contrite. “And I’m so very sorry.” He crossed to her side and caught her hands in his. “What can I say or do, that will erase them?”
“How could you believe it?” Winsome flung at him with years of pent-up anguish. “You say you love me and yet you believed me capable of reading and letting our baby drown.”
“Mother
was diabolically clever,” he muttered grimly. “But you don’t come out of this lily-white either. Why didn’t you tell me what had happened?”
Winsome gave a scornful little laugh.
“God your expectations are high. I was in shock. I only remember bits and pieces after that until after the funeral. It’s one huge blank void.”
“After you’d gone I went to see Clinton and he told me much the same.”
This did little to mitigate her outrage. “Gaelen was clever, but after you accused me of killing Matthew, how could I tell you what happened?”
“I’m sorry.” Jared looked sick.
“Gaelen took good care I never had a chance to tell anyone else. And the day of the inquest, she made damn sure I was doped up to the eyebrows.”
Jared gasped and went pale as he stared at his wife. Quentin’s words echoing hollowly. Dad knew. If not at the time, then before Winsome left here.
“It was Dad who made me take you to see Clinton.” The brutal bluntness of Jared’s words left her gasping for breath. “He said that you’d never survive the ordeal without sedation. Clinton agreed.”
“Harvey knew?” Winsome sat heavily in the closest chair. “He knew and did nothing?”
Her broken, shocked whisper lashed at Jared’s conscience. How could he have been so blind so damned unsuspecting?
“What sort of monsters were they?”
Jared didn’t know what to say. What could he say that would ease the shocking implications? He spread his hands in mute distress. Horrifying as it was, to learn of his mother’s actions, far worse was knowing his father had known and done nothing.
“So he too, regarded me as some mongrel orphanage brat, way beneath a Grainger’s touch,” she cried, teetering on the verge of hysteria.
For several tension-laden moments the self-condemning words sat in a fractured silence.
Jared grabbed her hands and yanked her from the chair. “When have I ever implied, by word or deed that you were beneath my touch?”
For a moment she just looked at him and then she began to laugh. Peal after peal of laughter echoed around the room. Jared lifted his hand and slapped her cheek with just enough force to stop her out-of-control laughter. Shocked, she lifted a hand to her cheek, staring at him with wounded eyes.
