Learning to Love

by Sheryl Browne

  Had he really imagined that Chloe would be better off with him? Taken away from all that she’d known, her family, her brother, her sister, trying to adjust to a climate that would be totally alien to her. How had he hoped to look after her, clothe her, feed her, keep her safe? Where would they have lived? Perhaps he’d already organised the details, Andrea’s heart sank to an all-time low. He might have been planning it for months. She didn’t know. She wasn’t sure she wanted to.

  ‘Sally, I wondered whether you’d heard her news?’ Eva pulled Andrea’s thoughts back to her kitchen.

  Oh, dear, the village drums had been beating, then. It was only a matter of time, Andrea, supposed. ‘Yes, Eva, I heard,’ she assured her, not quite managing to muster up a smile.

  ‘It’s David I feel for.’ Eva tsked and shook her head. ‘I think he’s handled it quite well, all things considered.’

  Ye-es. Andrea did smile then, an ironic smile, one dredged up from her oversized charity boots, which she was still filling out with David’s socks. Did she really want to hear about him and Sally? As therapeutic as a good gossip might be, Andrea really didn’t want to contemplate David’s future family arrangements. She was still trying to digest the news that, despite moving out of his house, she was apparently now living in his flat. Eva had glossed it over, saying David had expressed an interest in buying the premises for rental purposes before Andrea’s house had burned down. She found that hard to believe. David Adams had been as much an unsociable beast as Eva’s cat when he’d first moved to the village, having little to do with the neighbours. It was hardly likely, then, that he would have discussed buying the premises with Eva before it was even up for sale.

  True, property prices were moving again, just. And, yes, it was a very desirable apartment. With rented property in increasing demand, he’d have had no trouble letting it, but he’d bought it on impulse, Andrea suspected, with her homeless situation in mind. She was thankful, how could she not be, but she couldn’t be beholden to him.

  But then, David hadn’t intended her to be beholden, had he? He’d obviously sworn Eva to secrecy, but Eva, blushing not-very-convincingly, had ‘inadvertently’ spilled the beans. ‘David said he’d organise intruder and fire alarms,’ she’d said, worriedly fussing over her when Andrea had arrived back from the hospital. ‘I’ll have a word with him and try to hurry it along.’

  ‘David?’ Andrea had enquired archly, and thus, to Eva’s faux-mortification, she’d found out that David was her landlord.

  Beholden Andrea would be then, she supposed, in a way. She was certainly grateful, to David and Eva both. How she’d ever make amends to Eva in regard to her missing investment, Andrea had no idea. The household insurance hadn’t paid out, of course. Jonathan had been trying to keep her sweet until he’d gone, Andrea imagined. She wasn’t sure the arson investigators were involved yet, but she supposed they would be. She hadn’t really believed her mum leaving a pan on had started the fire.

  She was still struggling with the idea that Jonathan had, that he might have gone inside the house, and then surely he would have known that the children and her mum were … An involuntary shudder shook through her. Would he ever admit to more than he had? Did she want to hear it, to then try to understand the workings of the mind of a man who saw his only hope of survival was to burn his family’s home to the ground?

  ‘He was an absolute saint, apparently,’ Eva chatted on.

  To herself, Andrea realised, feeling a bit rude. She really wasn’t taking in half of what Eva was saying. ‘Who?’ she asked, trying to look the least little bit interested. If anyone was a saint, she thought, it was Eva, fussing over her, cooking food for her and her family; going out of her way to be friendly to Dee, who, true to form, was as offensive as ever.

  ‘David,’ Eva clarified. ‘He was absolutely golden about the whole thing, so Sally said.’

  What? Andrea almost spat out her tea. Excuse her, but since when did a man acknowledging he’d fathered an unplanned child make him a saint? She helped herself to one of Eva’s custard creams and bit on it huffily.

  ‘I’m not sure many men would be so gentlemanly about it.’ Eva sipped her tea contemplatively.

  Andrea slurped hers, noisily, hoping to dislodge the crumbs now wedged in her windpipe.

  ‘He’s a good man at heart,’ Eva continued, with a wistful little sigh. ‘He saved her life, according to Sally. Who knows what she’d have done if he hadn’t turned up.’

  Andrea’s eyes boggled. Was she missing something here? Because, despite the fact that David undoubtedly deserved a medal for his heroic actions where Chloe was concerned, unless it had become an Olympic sport, she doubted they gave them out to men for accumulating notches on bedposts.

  ‘Eva,’ she started croakily, ‘I know he’s a good man. I don’t dare imagine what would have happened if he hadn’t …’ Andrea closed her eyes, because she absolutely could imagine ‘… but, the fact is, they don’t give out knighthoods for inadvertently making women pregnant, as far as I know.’

  ‘But she’s not.’ Eva blinked at her over her cup. ‘I thought you … Oh, dear, have I done it again?’

  Andrea stared at her, incredulous. ‘You mean Sally’s not … having a baby?’

  ‘No.’ Eva reached for her teapot. ‘Never was, so it seems.’

  ‘But …’ Andrea was now really struggling to digest ‘… David didn’t say anything.’ She’d popped over this morning, to make sure he was okay; to thank him. She’d wanted to throw her arms around him and kiss him, definitely felt like crying on his shoulder, but both she’d thought better of, given his personal circumstances. He’d never said a word.

  ‘Yes, well, he wouldn’t have, would he?’ Eva finished pouring the tea and planted the pot down. ‘What would he say, Andrea? Oh, by the way, Sally’s not pregnant, so I’m available?’

  Passing Andrea her cup, Eva held her gaze. ‘The man’s in love with you, my dear. He doesn’t want you to think that he’s glib about making another woman pregnant; about not telling you he’d had a … liaison … with Sally before you heard it from her.’

  Andrea took the cup, and continued to stare at Eva dumbfounded.

  ‘I’m not condoning what he did, but he’s a red-blooded man who was searching for the warmth of a woman’s embrace having not long lost his wife as far I can … Andrea close your mouth, dear, you look like a goldfish.’

  Eva passed Andrea a napkin. Andrea blew her nose on it.

  ‘And correct me if I’m wrong, but Sally’s not really the sort who would be running chastely in the other direction, is she?’

  ‘No, but …’ Andrea started, ready to jump to Sally’s defence, but then realised she couldn’t. Far from fleeing in the other direction, having just witnessed her husband with another woman, Sally would have welcomed the attentions of someone like David. Encouraged it, knowing Sally. ‘She’d just found out Nick was cheating on her.’ Andrea knitted her brow, looking confusedly down at her tea, then back to Eva.

  ‘Well, there you go then. She was obviously looking for a man to make her feel better, and pardon me for saying so, but if I was looking for the same, Doctor Adams would do very nicely.’

  ‘Eva …’ Andrea laughed.

  ‘I’d take him over a chocolate éclair any day.’ Eva chuckled, helped herself to custard cream and regarded it disappointedly.

  ‘The pregnancy, had there been one,’ she went on, biting on the biscuit with a better-than-nothing shrug, ‘would have been incidental; fortunate for Sally who did want a baby, but rather unfortunate for David, who is so obviously in love with you even your respective children know it.’

  Andrea missed her mouth with her tea. ‘They do?’

  ‘Children are very astute, Andrea,’ Eva imparted in school ma’amish tones. ‘You of all people should know that. I suspect Ryan would quite like to bang your heads together.’

  ‘Ryan?’ Andrea wiped a dribble from her chin.

  ‘He looked after Jake while David rus
hed Sally to the hospital. Found the poor woman in agony, apparently. Wasted no time whisking her off; acted totally professionally and caringly. Her appendix was about to burst, apparently. I gather Ryan asked about her condition when—’

  ‘Appendix!’ Andrea clanged her cup down. ‘But …?’ She shook her head, more befuddled now than ever. Had Sally thought she might be pregnant? Lied about it? Did it matter, right now, when the poor woman was in …? She would have to have had an operation! ‘I have to go and see her.’ Andrea jumped to her feet.

  ‘Splendid idea.’ Eva got to hers. ‘The whole thing between David and her was obviously a heat of the moment thing and historical, as far as David was concerned. However, he wasn’t about to walk away from his responsibilities, that’s all I wanted to say.’

  ‘Right.’ Andrea nodded dazedly, wondering what on earth had been going through Sally’s mind, whether she was all right, whether she might need anything. ‘Should I take her something, do you think, Eva? Toiletries? Chocolates?’

  ‘Your friendship?’ Eva suggested shrewdly.

  David was obviously just about to leave as Andrea arrived. Unable to help herself, she watched through the glass panel in the hospital door. David stood from his visitors chair to smile down at Sally, bent to plant a soft kiss on her cheek then squeezed her hand, before heading for the door, looking pensive.

  Andrea stepped away from the room as he came into the corridor, clearly lost in his thoughts. ‘Can’t keep away from the place, hey?’ she joked, knowing that his kiss had been no more than a show of affection. He was a good man at heart. She hadn’t really needed Eva to tell her that.

  ‘Andrea, hi.’ He looked up, his mouth curving into a smile as he saw her. ‘I, er …’ he faltered, his smile fading as he obviously realised she would know why he was here.

  ‘Came to see Sally?’ Andrea helped him along.

  ‘Yes.’ He nodded and blew out a sigh. ‘I thought she could use a friend, to be honest. She’s been through a rough time, so …’

  ‘That’s why I came to see her,’ Andrea said, aware, now more than ever, just how caring of other people’s feelings David seemed to be. ‘Assuming she’ll want to see me, of course.’ She shrugged, glancing worriedly towards the door.

  David furrowed his brow. ‘Why wouldn’t she?’

  Caring but naïve, Andrea hid a smile. Because she could see I was in love with you even though I couldn’t, she didn’t enlighten him.

  ‘How’s your ankle?’ she asked him.

  ‘How are you?’ he said, at the same time.

  ‘Good,’ they both said together.

  Andrea laughed. ‘We’re going to have to stop doing this, you know?’

  ‘What? Being awkward in each other’s company?’ David smiled, a sad reflective smile that really could charm the birds from the trees – and one or two passing nurses.

  Andrea noted a pretty young thing’s head twizzling on her neck as she passed by, her eyes all but eating David up. Don’t walk into any doors, will you, sweetie, and flatten your face. Andrea bobbed around David and beamed the nurse a smile, at which the girl had the good grace to pick her eyeballs up and walk on.

  Looking back at David, Andrea pondered. Apparently, he hadn’t even noticed the girl openly lusting – and she definitely found that hard to believe. Did he really not know what a catch he was? Good looks aside, the man cared about people, hands-on cared. She quickly dismissed a pelvis-flipping recollection of his hands so tenderly on her, all over her. Did he ever look in the mirror? Obviously he hadn’t this morning. She noted a nick where he’d shaved, once again badly, and wished her own caring instinct, her urge to hold him and soothe him; make sweet sensual love to him, wouldn’t kick in every time she saw him.

  ‘We need to talk,’ she said quickly, and over-brusquely, she realised, in an attempt to disguise her own errant lust.

  David flinched, looked physically wounded, as if she’d just slapped him.

  ‘Clear the air, you know,’ she added clumsily, glancing down.

  ‘Right,’ he said, tugging in a tight breath. ‘I, er … When and where?’

  Andrea looked back at him. Good question, she thought, as he searched her face, a thousand questions in his eyes. Obviously not here. And not at the apartment with her astute children’s ears flapping.

  ‘You could pop over to mine later,’ he suggested with a hopeful shrug.

  ‘No, I, um … I’ll ring you,’ Andrea said. That would be better. She tried to think of somewhere they could actually talk without interruption.

  ‘Okay.’ David nodded slowly, looking somewhat deflated. ‘I’ll wait to hear from you then.’

  ‘I’d better go in.’ Andrea nodded past him to Sally’s door. ‘Is she all right?’ she asked, concerned. She had no idea what state she might find her in, physically or emotionally.

  ‘She’s had an infection, but she’s as well as can be expected.’ David nodded again and smiled reassuringly.

  ‘But not pregnant?’

  David ran a hand over his neck. ‘Not pregnant, no,’ he said, his expression now giving nothing away.

  ‘Was she ever?’ Andrea had to ask.

  David looked at her, down at his shoes, back at her. ‘I think you should talk to Sally about that, Andrea. Patient confidentiality aside, I really think anything she wants you to know should come from her, don’t you? Sorry.’ He shrugged again, apologetically.

  ‘Don’t be,’ Andrea said, inclined to press a kiss to his cheek, but thought better of it, given they were outside Sally’s room. ‘You’re a very caring man, David Adams,’ she said, pressing her hand against his cheek instead.

  ‘But perhaps a little careless sometimes,’ he said quietly behind her as she headed for Sally’s door.

  Andrea looked at him curiously.

  ‘Seems I have an awful habit of losing the things I care about most.’ He dragged a hand through his hair and turned to go.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  ‘Are we talking?’ Andrea asked, poking her head around the door.

  Sally looked at her, her huge blue eyes glassy, her complexion pale against the starched white of the pillows. ‘I didn’t think you were talking to me.’ She sniffled. ‘I didn’t think you’d ever want to talk to me again.’ She glanced down, fiddling with a tissue then promptly burst into tears.

  ‘Oh, sweetie.’ Andrea walked swiftly over to the bed, her heart wrenching inside her. ‘Of course, I’m speaking to you. Why on earth wouldn’t I be?’

  ‘After the awful things I said?’ Sally blinked up at her. ‘The awful things I’ve done. I thought you’d hate me,’ she said snottily. ‘I was sure David would. I would, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘He’s not like that, Sally.’ Andrea sat down on the edge of the bed and drew her distraught and obviously confused friend to her. ‘I don’t think he’s capable of disliking anyone. Well, apart from Jonathan, possibly. I’m not sure he was overly impressed with him.’

  ‘Oh, Andrea,’ Sally pulled her blotchy face from Andrea’s shoulder, ‘I’m so sorry. Eva told me what happened. I had no idea you were going through all that as well as the fire. God, I’m such a selfish bitch. Poor you.’

  ‘Poor you, you mean.’ Andrea relieved her of the tissue, now shredded, and passed her another. ‘Do you want to tell me about it?’ she asked, once Sally had had a good blow.

  Sally pulled in a shuddery breath and ran her hand under her nose. ‘I expect David’s told you most of it.’ She shrugged uncomfortably.

  ‘He hasn’t actually.’

  Sally blinked her eyelashes, confused.

  ‘Eva told me you weren’t pregnant,’ Andrea said gently, taking Sally’s hand. ‘David confirmed it, just now, but he hasn’t said any more.’

  ‘He hasn’t?’ Sally blinked again, bemused.

  ‘He’s not one to talk behind people’s backs, Sally. He’s just concerned for you, that’s all.’

  A fat tear plopped down Sally’s cheek, followed swiftly by another. ‘God,’ she
flopped her head back on her pillow, ‘I’ve been such an idiot, haven’t I? Such a cow.’

  Andrea glanced away. ‘I’ve brought chocolates,’ she said evasively. ‘Why don’t we open the box and—’

  ‘There never was a baby, Andrea,’ Sally said quietly.

  ‘Oh.’ Andrea nodded, closing her eyes.

  ‘I bet you don’t want to share your chocolates with me now.’

  ‘There’s too many for one person.’ Andrea forced a smile. ‘I’d have to jog to school if I ate—’

  ‘Aren’t you going to ask why I did it?’ Sally interrupted. ‘How I hoped to get away with it?’

  Andrea studied the chocolate menu. The vanilla truffle looked tempting. ‘Only if you want to tell me,’ she said.

  Sally drew in a breath. ‘I hoped there would be a baby,’ she admitted bleakly. ‘Maybe not immediately but … I thought that if we had sex morning, noon and night it was bound to happen.’

  Andrea closed the lid. She didn’t really feel like chocolate, after all.

  ‘He wasn’t interested,’ Sally went on as Andrea traced a finger over the embossed lettering on the box. ‘Believe me, I tried. I was his for the taking. I even stripped practically naked for him. He turned me down flat.’

  Andrea could feel Sally’s eyes on her. She didn’t look up.

  ‘He wasn’t being cruel. I realise that now. He doesn’t love me. I thought maybe in time that he might learn to, but …’

  ‘And if he had been interested?’ Andrea met her gaze. ‘And you hadn’t got pregnant?’

  Sally fiddled with her tissue. ‘I’d have lied.’ She flushed, glancing down.

  Told him she’d miscarried his baby? Oh, Sally, Sally … Had she any idea how devastated he might have been at that news? ‘Hoping that by then you’d have established a relationship,’ she ventured, ‘and David would have stayed anyway?’

  ‘Yes.’ Sally nodded, her eyes fixed on her hands. ‘At least that was the plan.’