Red-Hot Lover

by Sarah Holland

  ‘Maybe,’ she suggested softly, ‘it had more to do with the fact that it was over?’

  ‘What was over?’

  ‘The whole thing, Jared. The affair, the arguments, the scandal. When your father died it ended everything for ever. A new era began. Maybe that’s what you felt die.’

  He was suddenly incapable of speech, staring at her.

  ‘Have you ever heard the phrase “freed by trauma?”’ she asked gently. ‘Darling, sometimes it takes a tragedy to free people from an intolerable situation.’

  ‘And what about my father?’ he demanded. ‘What about his freedom? He lost his life over this! How am I to forgive them for that? They destroyed his selfesteem, his whole identity, his belief in his place in the world. Who wouldn’t contemplate death under those circumstances?’

  Huskily, she said, ‘You?’

  Emotions flickered across his face. It just showed how important it was to talk these things through with someone who really loved you, Clara thought. Nobody had ever answered the questions he needed to ask because he had never asked them. And now, as he began to break the isolation he had lived with all his life, he was able to leave his fortress and look at the world outside with new eyes.

  It was clearly very different from the world he had always believed lay beyond the parapets and battlements and moat. His strength had isolated him as much as it had protected him. But, with Clara, he had found a way out, and now he began truly accepting the help she was only too glad to give.

  He said, ‘I must admit that I’ve often felt very angry with him for doing it. I guess I just couldn’t bring myself to look at that anger. It seemed so disloyal.’

  ‘We all feel ambivalent emotions when someone close to us dies—’

  ‘I don’t think I can talk about it any more,’ he cut in, his voice raw and unsteady.

  ‘Darling, you’ll feel so much better if—’

  ‘I can’t! Don’t ask again!’

  She fell silent as she saw the fear leap in his eyes. He reacted like a wounded animal every time she went near that memory. But it was like the thorn in the lion’s paw: it had to come out. In his rage and pain he lashed out without realising that it was the thorn which was causing it all.

  ‘I’ll abide by any decision you make,’ she said quietly. ‘But I think you’d prefer to tell me privately rather than risk another incident like tonight.’

  He closed his eyes and drew a harsh breath. There was a long silence. The clock on the mantelpiece ticked softly. Slowly, Jared walked over to the drinks cabinet to refill his glass. He concentrated on opening the miniature bottle, but halfway through he dropped it and leaned his hands on the table in front of him, breathing harshly.

  ‘My father died in the great hall of the Manor.’

  She’d thought she would feel horror when she finally heard him say it, but she felt only relief that it was finally over, and, as she thought that, she saw the boy in Jared step out from the shadows of the powerful adult he had become, and she knew he had turned some momentous corner towards recovery.

  ‘It was summer,’ he said deeply. ‘Everyone was at the fête on the village green. I’d arranged to meet my father there because of course I had no other friends to meet, only him. My mother arrived in Owain’s swanky Bentley. I hated her because she was dressed up like a Chanel model and sashaying around on his arm. But most of all I hated her because my father hadn’t arrived. I was sure it was because of her.’

  ‘Did she try to talk to you?’

  ‘No, she didn’t even see me. To be fair to her, I didn’t want her to see me. Not like that. Not with everyone watching. I hung back from the main crowd and after an hour or so I went looking for Da.’

  Ah, she thought, Da. So that was what his nightmare had been all about. His voice was even beginning to take on a faint Welsh lilt as he talked. The mention of ‘Da’ instead of ‘my father’ showed how great the inner corner he was turning really was.

  ‘I went to the cottage, the pub—all the usual haunts—but I couldn’t find him anywhere. I didn’t want to go back to the fête, so I went for a walk. It was a beautiful day. Very hot, bright blue sky—I remember it so vividly. Even down to the wild strawberries I picked and ate on the way. Then suddenly I saw the Manor, rising up above the hedgerows, and I thought—I wonder if he’s there?’

  ‘You hadn’t meant to make your way there, then?’

  ‘The Manor was the last place I would have looked for him. But when I saw it I just had a feeling he was there. I remember thinking I’d be safe, even if I didn’t find him, because nobody else would be there. They were all at the fête, including the staff.’

  ‘You saw them there?’

  ‘Yes…but, just to make sure, I climbed the wall so no one would see me. I needn’t have worried. The front doors were ajar. And as I walked across the manicured lawns I began to feel scared. I felt as though the house was waiting for me. Whispering to me, almost, but I was only eight and I told myself it was the breeze, not the house.’

  She moved closer, eyes wide. ‘Yes, I felt that. The day you came to get me. I heard the whispers—from the house. Uncanny…’

  He knew her well enough to know she told the truth. He also knew that she’d described his own feelings, as though she’d been in his eight-year-old’s shoes that day, the day he’d found his father.

  And as she looked into his eyes she saw the final barrier lift and the real Jared show himself: a man of great seriousness and depth who had only just recognised the enormity of his love for her. He was meant to tell her this. He felt the hand of destiny at the same moment she did, and she shivered as it touched her shoulder, very softly, from a long way away, just as the house had whispered its long-kept secrets to her, as it had to him on that summer afternoon thirty years ago.

  ‘It was the house, then,’ he said deeply. ‘I always believed it was.’

  ‘They say the feelings of the dead can stay in a house for centuries.’

  ‘But whose feelings, Clara? His or mine?’

  ‘Everybody’s. That house was the epicentre of the tragedy from the beginning.’

  He nodded. ‘There was never anywhere else. Everything was linked to the Manor from the start of the affair until the day of my father’s death. The day I found Da, I stood on the steps without moving for a long time. The doors were ajar…’ his voice slurred ‘…but I had a gut instinct. I was only eight, so I imagined there were monsters in the hall, waiting for me. Then I told myself not to be weak. I was Bryn Blackheath’s son and I wasn’t afraid of monsters, so I summoned all my courage and opened the door. I saw him at once.’

  Clara touched his hand, unable to speak.

  ‘I sat on the floor and tried to think what to do. Then I heard the car in the drive and a second later my mother was standing in the doorway, screaming.’

  ‘Was she alone?’ Clara asked huskily.

  ‘No, the fête had ended and Owain had driven her home. He was standing just behind her and Jones the chauffeur was there, too.’

  ‘Jones…that wouldn’t be a relation of—?’

  ‘Gwyneth. Yes. He was her father. That’s how she found out the full story and spread it around the class.’

  ‘The picture she drew on the blackboard…’

  ‘Gruesome, yes. But she must have been in a state of shock, too. I think the whole town was. I didn’t realise that until today, but now I see how they must all have felt.’ He cleared his throat, frowning. ‘It was the conversation with you, about loyalty, that made me see it. What you said about the Profumo scandal affecting everyone in the country…in many ways you hit the nail on the head with that one. Everyone in Rhossana went through the tragedy of Bryn Blackheath’s death. It hurt us all.’

  ‘But you were the figurehead, Jared,’ she said at once, for she didn’t want him to lose sight of how much greater his suffering had been than any other person’s, either in his family or in this town. His whole life and character had been shaped by these forces. ‘You were th
e one at the centre of it all along. That’s why you felt it so deeply and for so many years. Although everyone else did suffer, you were just a child. Lily’s husband died. Owain’s rival died. The town lost a well-loved friend…but you lost your father.’

  He drew an uneven breath. ‘I think in many ways it went so deep that I just refused to look at it. That’s why I made sure that everything changed from that moment on. It was the only way to deal with it. The only way to survive.’

  Clara kissed him tenderly. ‘You survived magnificently, darling. You made the right decisions, even though you were only eight.’

  ‘But did I?’ He frowned thoughtfully. ‘If I did, why has coming back here affected me so much?’

  ‘That’s only natural. When you left here you were seventeen, and still driven by the need to become wealthy, successful and famous. But that was twenty years ago, and look at you now. It’s just time for fate to bring you back to the place where it all started.’

  He studied her for a moment. ‘I think the aftershocks of the tragedy are responsible, too.’

  She smiled and kissed him. ‘Tell me about the aftershocks.’

  ‘I think I’d like another brandy first!’ He groaned, laughing. ‘Going down Memory Lane isn’t as bad as I thought it’d be, but it’s still draining and depressing!’

  He poured them each a small brandy. Clara put the kettle on and made some coffee too. While the odd brandy was easing the stress for Jared in finally making his confession, she knew it was best if he stayed reasonably clear-headed.

  ‘There are a couple of biscuits here, too,’ she told him as he sank wearily onto the couch.

  ‘I’ll eat them both,’ he drawled, laughing as he put his feet up on the coffee table. She settled down beside him, curling her feet up beneath her and sipping the brandy he handed her.

  ‘Well,’ he said, stretching, ‘after they found Da, I ran off. I went to a cave under the cliffs and hid there for a long time—the whole village formed search parties. Dai Williams’s father and his friends found me.’

  ‘Dai Williams…’ She searched her memory. ‘Oh, yes, the vicar’s son. He’s a doctor now, at the hospital. He walked past the room once or twice to stare at you.’

  ‘Da’s funeral was a couple of days later and my mother moved out of the Manor.’

  ‘She left Owain after the funeral?’

  ‘No, she moved out of the Manor directly after Da’s death. But it wasn’t official until after the funeral. That’s when she had all her possessions moved back into the cottage to live with me. I refused point-blank to move into the Manor.’

  ‘I don’t blame you.’ Clara sipped her coffee and surreptitiously offered him his cup, too, which he took along with both biscuits.

  ‘Afterwards no one ever discussed it with me, Clara. The kids at school just stared at me as though I was a freak. The villagers kept treating me as an object of pity. I hated it. I hated being me. I hated having to see them all, year after year…’

  She touched his hand with love and understanding. ‘A death like that is too horrible for most people to handle, darling. They’ve protected you, stayed silent and showed unwavering loyalty for thirty years. And for ten of those years you weren’t famous. Or rich. Or newsworthy. Or powerful. Their loyalty is to you—not your success.’

  He heaved a heavy sigh, studying the coffee cup as he put it down on the table. ‘I’ve always been afraid someone would sell the story. I guess I misjudged them all terribly. I misjudged my mother, too…’

  ‘Did you, darling?’ she asked as he sat back against the warmth of the couch.

  ‘I hated her,’ he said thickly. ‘As I grew up—surrounded by memories of my dead father—I hated her so bitterly I frequently couldn’t bring myself to speak to her. I remember when Owain moved away and remarried. I remember that she cried, endlessly, for months because she’d lost both the men she loved in one fell swoop.

  ‘And how do you feel about her now?’

  ‘I’ve forgiven her, but I’ll never feel like running into her arms and hugging her,’ he said frankly. ‘Feelings that deep don’t go away. They just fade with time. She did her best to make it up to me but the damage was irreparable. I left home as soon as I was seventeen. I only needed one year’s work after leaving school to save enough to get me to London. She tried to stop me, saying I was crazy to think I’d be a success. So I didn’t bother to leave a forwarding address. And I didn’t contact her again for five years.’

  She nodded slowly. ‘Well, that explains everything. I always found your relationship strange. The distance between you, the rare visits, and the way you’d suddenly join forces against me if I asked too many questions.’

  ‘Perhaps now you can understand why I shied away from those questions?’ he asked softly, putting a hand over hers.

  ‘Completely.’ She leaned over to kiss him.

  ‘And why I reacted as I did at Susie’s wedding?’

  ‘Oh, that’s as clear as crystal to me now!’ She slid her arms around his chest and he held her close as she kissed his throat, buried her face in his neck. ‘What a terrible day that must have been for you! But how glad I am that it happened!’

  ‘Me too,’ he confessed huskily, kissing the top of her head. ‘I’d known from the minute Susie fell in love with Gareth that this was on the cards. Every step she took closer to the altar brought me one step closer to Owain Llewellyn.’

  ‘And one step closer to the Manor.’

  ‘It was a nightmare sitting next to him at the Ritz. When he started to make that speech I just knew what he was going to say. I knew it. I felt so powerless.’

  She kissed his tough cheek. ‘I wonder what Owain was thinking when he made that speech. It can’t have been easy.’

  ‘We’ll never know. Although I suspect he was thinking a little about my mother. He did genuinely love her. And I have a strong feeling they’ll get back together again.’

  Drawing back to look at him, she smiled. ‘I’ve wondered about that!’

  ‘Well, it does look as though it’s going to happen,’ he said wryly. ‘In fact, it may already have happened. Remember I told you that when I rang my mother with news of Susie’s wedding, she didn’t seem surprised.’

  ‘Oh, yes—you said she almost seemed to know about it before you did.’

  ‘One guess who told her,’ he said with a cynical laugh.

  She studied his face carefully. ‘And how do you feel about that?’

  He was silent for a moment, then eventually said, ‘I can’t stand in their way. I wouldn’t have tried at any stage. Owain was right when he said I wasn’t the only one who had suffered. They did suffer, too. And if they deserved punishment, they’ve certainly had their fill.’

  ‘Do you forgive them, though?’

  He gave a harsh sigh and nodded. ‘Yes…I forgive them. Both of them. It’s been a long time, Clara. And my father is with me for the rest of my life, no matter what they say or do.’

  Just then the telephone rang.

  ‘That,’ said Jared, ‘can only be the hospital.’ He got to his feet and strode to the phone while Clara watched in an agony of fear in case it was bad news.

  ‘Yes?’ Jared answered. There was a burst of sound from the earpiece. ‘What! You’re kidding! Oh, thank God!’

  Clara’s heart flew fast with hope as she saw the light blaze in his eyes and a smile transform his face.

  ‘But that means she could wake up at any minute!’ Jared was saying. ‘Did the doctor tell you that? Definitely? We’ll be there in ten minutes’ flat!’

  She leapt to her feet and ran to him. ‘What’s happened?’

  He put the phone down, excited. ‘Her eyes are moving. Her mouth is moving. They think she’s going to wake up. This is it. Sleeping Beauty’s maybe just about to open her eyes and say hello!’

  CHAPTER NINE

  TEN minutes later, the limousine screeched to a halt outside the hospital. Jared leapt out with Clara, and they ran all the way to Intensive Ca
re. They looked so out of place, he in a formal black evening suit, she in a long red gown.

  ‘Don’t go in!’ Gareth was waiting for them and pointed hurriedly to the doctor and three nurses who were currently leaning over Susie. She was still asleep, but the machines rattled more noisily than ever before, showing improvement in all vital signs.

  ‘She’s not awake yet?’ Clara asked breathlessly.

  ‘No,’ Gareth replied. ‘I rang you as soon as they took over. It was all very quick, very professional. They shooed me out and I was so excited I had to tell someone! I just know Susie’s on the mend. I can feel it. She’s going to wake up. Tonight, maybe tomorrow. But some time soon.’

  ‘I think you’re right.’ Jared peered through the glass room at the sleeping Susie. ‘Let’s hope the—’

  Suddenly, the nurses and doctor exited in a flurry of white coats, pale blue dresses and clipboards.

  ‘Is something wrong?’ Jared demanded.

  ‘On the contrary.’ The doctor clicked his pen and put it back in the breast pocket of his white coat. ‘Everything looks extremely promising. But don’t get your hopes up yet.’

  ‘Can we go back in?’ asked Gareth.

  ‘Yes,’ smiled the doctor, ‘and keep talking to her.’

  They went into the room. Clara sank down at Susie’s bedside. Jared stood behind her chair, long hands sliding onto Clara’s shoulders, while Gareth took the chair on the other side of the bed.

  ‘Darling, wake up.’ Gareth took Susie’s hand and began talking urgently. ‘We’re all here.’

  ‘Jared and I rushed over here from the hotel.’ Clara held her other hand. ‘We look rather silly—all dressed up for a party, and you’re the star guest!’

  ‘They make a great couple,’ Gareth agreed. ‘Just think—if you wake up, you might be able to persuade them to get married!’

  Susie’s eyelids moved. They all gasped and leaned forward, holding their collective breath until it became clear that Susie was not going to wake up just yet.