by Margaret Way
“Did too!” To Mallory’s trained ears, that came close to adult despair. “I’m tellin’ the truth. Swear. Swear. Swear. Cross me heart.”
Mallory felt a wave of compassion. “Why would you say that, Ivy?” She had treated many children who spun elaborate tales, so she had learned to rely heavily on intuition. She believed Ivy.
Emboldened, Ivy was only too eager to oblige. “’Cause she said, ‘Just look what you done, you clumsy little bitch!’ I dint do nuthin’,” Ivy fretted. “She must have rocked it over to get me into trouble.”
Jason’s expression showed outright rejection of Ivy’s story. “Ivy,” he said testily, “I’ve told you a hundred times not to tell fibs.”
Ivy buried her blonde head against Mallory. “You tell Aunty Jess,” she piped up bravely, hands bunching Mallory’s skirt. “She’s the big fat liar. Not me. She tells lotsa lies to make bad things happen. Mummy knows I told the truth about the elephant. I loved that elephant. It had its trunk up. That means it’s happy. Mummy loved the elephant too. Mummy says Aunty Jess is a horrible person. She’s got a wicked tongue. That means—”
“We know what it means, thank you, Ivy,” Jason thundered. “You’re being silly now. And you’re giving Mallory the wrong idea. Come here to me.”
“Go along now, Ivy,” Mallory said, gentle but firm, steering the little girl towards her father. She could not interfere.
To Mallory’s huge relief, Jason bent and swept his little daughter into his arms. Ivy put her arms around his neck. He kissed her on the forehead. “Mummy will play with you, okay?”
“Doesn’t she have a headache anymore?” Ivy asked, tenderly stroking her father’s tanned cheek.
“It’s gone, sweetheart. But you must behave for her.”
Ivy’s blue eyes opened wide. “I’m always a good girl for Mummy. It’s only Aunty Jess I hide from. I know lotsa places Aunty Jessy don’t know,” she crowed.
Jason’s strain was apparent. “Say thank you to Mallory.”
“Thank you, Mally,” Ivy said very sweetly, reaching out a hand.
Mallory took it. “You’re always welcome here, Ivy,” Mallory assured her. “I’ll make some arrangements with your mother.”
“Better if you don’t,” Jason told her brusquely. “I can see Ivy will get fond of you, then you’ll go away. You’re good at that.”
Mallory might have retaliated only it would be futile. She had seldom seen a man look so alone. Again her heart stirred with pity. Was she supposed to have stuck around to offer support to the man who had betrayed her? Blaine had told her she’d had a lucky escape. She was able to see with great clarity she could now offload that unhappy part of her life. Jason had chosen his path. She had embarked on another.
And never the twain shall meet.
* * *
It took all of ten minutes after they had gone before she could go on with her unpacking. Jason’s harsh tones still rang in her ears, yet she was aware of a sudden quietude within herself. Her meeting with Jason had been easier than she had anticipated.
Since she had lost her mother at so young an age, and in such a sudden, violent way, she had lived with her fears. The fear of loss was uppermost in her mind. Loving meant loss. Her mindset, she knew, had been strongly influenced as well, by her fear of passionate relationships such as the obsessive love her father and uncle had borne for her mother. It explained a great deal about the relationships she’d had, starting with Jason. Her choice of a certain type of man was her way of protecting herself. She aspired to being a woman who took pride in charting her own course.
She never wanted to be at the mercy of any man.
She didn’t trust them. Neither could she forget the results of a respected survey that asked both men and women what they feared most about the opposite sex. The men: They laugh at us. The women: They kill us.
* * *
Dot Rawlings, one hand stuffed into her pink and white checked apron pocket, stood at the top of the steps, the other waving a white napkin à la Pavarotti. Mallory’s mouth curved in wry amusement. Dot had to be a romantic at heart. She clearly saw Mallory’s return to Moonglade as heralding something new and interesting. Like a romance. One couldn’t condemn her for it. Romance as a cure-all was a widespread illusion.
“Dot likes you.” Blaine held the door as she slipped into the passenger seat.
“What’s not to like?” she challenged.
“More than my life’s worth to do that.”
On such a blazing hot day Mallory looked as cool as a lily. That ethereal quality she possessed probably had something to do with the brightness of her psyche. “You’re not one to reach out.”
“Too precarious.”
He shot her a sideways glance. “How hard is this for you, Mallory?”
There was nothing between them but the charged air. It vibrated with sensual energy. His, not hers. He had it in abundance. “Since when did you become my honorary confessor?”
“Way back.”
“I thought you’d resigned.”
“More like sacked.”
“I admit you’ve been loyal, Blaine.” She allowed her eyes to rest momentarily on his striking profile. Blaine had one of those faces that was hard to forget.
“I’ve met Ivy and Jessica,” she said, waiting for the question she knew was coming.
“Not Jason?” He shot her another laser look. “Are you going to tell me or do I have to pry it out of you?”
“Ah, yes, Jason.”
“Well?” he prompted.
“Well what, Blaine?” She felt one of the flares of temper that only Blaine could set alight. “Why do you do this to me? Are you expecting me to say I went to pieces?”
“Not these days, Doctor James,” he returned suavely. “So how did it go?”
She dropped all pretence. “Not that well. Jason is still struggling with old issues. Ivy is the image of him. I couldn’t see anything of Kathy at this stage. Of course children change. She’s a smart little kid. She has spirit, but she’s woefully underweight. It needs to be checked out.”
“I’m sure it has been, Mallory.”
“Still, I think I’ll find out for myself.”
“If there’s something wrong, wouldn’t it show up in blood tests?” he argued.
“That can be checked out. I’m not prepared to let go. There should be answers to the child’s vomiting, for a start. I’m a person who has to know.”
“I would never, ever have guessed!”
She ignored the sarcasm. Both of them were veterans. “There appears to be quite a bit of trauma going on in her young life. She doesn’t get on with Aunty Jessy. Jessica really should have been christened Krakatoa.”
“She could do with a course on anger management. I guess not all women are good with kids.”
Mallory was well aware of that. “Sad for Ivy, don’t you think? Jason is stern with her as well.”
“You’ll find out soon enough, the marriage isn’t going well.”
“Then I’m sorry to hear that.” Mallory’s response was genuine. “Not easy to hurdle a bad start. It might go better if Jessica butted out. Ivy divulged among other things, Jessica had called her an effing dumbo kid and her mother a stupid cow. Ivy took that insult literally. Jessica was the stupid one since her mother was a lady.”
“Careful where you go with this, Mallory,” Blaine warned. “Your interest could be seen as unwelcome interference.”
“You’re saying don’t get involved? I am involved. If Ivy has behavioural problems then there’s a root cause. If she vomits frequently, that needs to be more thoroughly checked out. I should have asked what time of the day she vomits, that’s important, and whether she suffers from childhood migraines. Kathy apparently has migraines. I’ll speak to Ted.”
“Whoa! Back up a step. How did Jason react when he first saw you?”
Her response was brisk. “What are you asking precisely? Is he still in love with me? Or fancies he is?”
“He is
still in love with you,” Blaine told her with his usual bluntness. “It’s a literal fact.”
“Or a self-indulgent fantasy.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that. Jason certainly didn’t love poor little Kathy, but he did what he thought was the honourable thing. He married her. But it hasn’t worked out. No big surprise there. Marriage is difficult enough, but without love! Then again, Kathy could never have managed on her own. Her mother has been a battered woman for all her married life, and her father is a hopeless alcoholic. No support system within that family.”
“It would have been very hard for her. All the more despicable then is Jessica’s bullying. The Jessica I remember would hate anyone who married her brother. I believe she hated me. Probably still does. Jessica wants sole sway over her twin. Kathy doesn’t stand a chance with Jessica ruling the roost. What’s wrong with Jason he can’t tell his sister to stay out of his marriage? It might give it a chance.”
“When did he ever lock out his sister?” It was a statement, not a question.
“Maybe it saved a lot of wear and tear. Jason has always allowed Jessica to dominate him. I believe Jessica goes into crisis mode when her relationship with her twin appears threatened. It’s not all that unusual, human nature being what it is. Jason can never hope to become an individual with Jessica forever on the scene.”
“Would you say they’re an extreme case?” Blaine shot her a keen glance.
“Not really.” Mallory gave vent to a sigh. “I treated twelve-year-old identical twins, girls, who are genuinely hostile towards one another. Each is pathologically jealous of the other. Sadly I would say the hostility will grow stronger as they move further into adolescence. The signs are not hopeful, even with treatment. As for me, it’s a huge relief to realize I never loved Jason.”
“I know that,” he said with terrific emphasis.
“That’s it! Go for broke. There are no lingering feelings whatever.”
“Good.”
“Proof I didn’t—and still don’t—truly know myself, but I’m getting there. What about you and Selma? I mean you two were the town’s big item. You didn’t love her?”
“Maybe you and I should have married,” he suggested, looking straight ahead at the mirage-hazed road.
“There’s a comic suggestion! We’re incompatible. Chalk and cheese.”
“Are we?” He shot her a glinting glance. “Are we really?”
“At least I acknowledge it. Besides, I would never give you power over me.” As soon as she said it, she knew it was a big mistake.
Blaine reacted angrily. “What the devil are you talking about, Mallory? Power over you? Get real.”
She was immediately on the defensive. “I don’t want to carry on this conversation.”
“Of course you don’t. You might have to confront a few hard facts about yourself.”
“I know a woman’s vulnerability gives a man power.”
“And women don’t use their power?” he countered. “Women can get men to do just about anything. You’re highly intelligent. A trained psychologist. Why don’t you turn your analytical eye on yourself? You keep to yourself far more than any woman I’ve ever known.”
“And you’ve known a few,” she said, tartly.
He ignored her comment as having no worth. “The only reason you got involved with Cartwright is because, given your history, you didn’t want to expose yourself to real emotion. Falling passionately in love was out of the question.”
She made a shushing sound. “Might I remind you who’s the psychologist here? What about you? Who are you to analyse me? Why do you continue to vacillate between women friends? Don’t you want children?”
“I certainly do.” His retort was immediate. “Your biological clock can’t be ticking too merrily away?”
Emotions were stirring. She did long for a child. “What if it is? The difficulty, however, is finding the right man. If indeed such a man exists,” she added waspishly.
He gave a taut laugh. “To your own exacting standards. You won’t find the right man until you bulldoze down the barriers, Mallory.”
“Thank you, Dr. Forrester. Who says I need a man at all? Relationships can be brutal. I think our time’s up.”
Despite the air-conditioned interior, the atmosphere inside the Range Rover was heating up. “We’re always arguing when we meet,” she added. “Doesn’t that prove we’re incompatible? The irony is, I want you in my life. Only contact brings conflict. Everything gets too heated.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure I know why if you don’t,” he said crisply, then fell silent.
That suited her just fine. Trying to find the answer would be like opening up a whole slice of her psyche.
* * *
Robert James was dressed and waiting for them by the time they arrived. This morning he looked a shade hyper, his prominent cheekbones flushed. He was going home. His Mallory would be staying with him, at least for a time. The joy of it was there for all to see.
Ted Moorehouse was on hand to see them off, which was fortunate, because Mallory wanted a private word with him, and not only about the care that should be given to her uncle. She wanted to speak to him about Ivy Cartwright.
Aren’t you butting in here?
Blaine’s searing gaze was boring a hole in her. He was reading her mind again, digging deep for the morning’s agenda. She touched her uncle gently on the shoulder. “You go on to the car with Blaine, Uncle Robert. I just want a few words with Dr. Ted. Won’t be long.”
Blaine continued to stare at her as if he wanted to ask a lot of questions. Nevertheless he proceeded to push Robert, who was making use of a hospital wheelchair, out into the corridor.
Ted Moorehouse gave Mallory a comforting smile. “Robb knows exactly what he has to do, Mallory,” he said, thinking that was her concern. “If you have any worries, you can ring me at any given moment. I’ll call out to the house from time to time. Robb is a good friend as well as my patient.”
“I know that, Ted,” Mallory said gratefully. “I really wanted to have a word with you about Ivy Cartwright.”
“Ivy Cartwright?” Ted’s bushy eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Not my patient, my dear. I’m a cardiologist, as you know. You should be speaking to Dr. Marisa Farnsworth. She’s in the building. Do you want me to put out a call?”
Mallory shook her head. “Not for the moment, Doctor Ted. I met Ivy yesterday. She’s an intelligent, perceptive child. She told me she’s sick a lot.”
Ted Moorehouse tugged a drooping corner of his luxuriant moustache. “Her mother does bring her too often, I have to say. Overanxious, overprotective. Kathy is a young woman with self-esteem problems. It all lies within her extremely unhappy upbringing. Poor girl is in need of some warmth and attention.”
Mallory could only agree. “I remember Kathy as a very pretty girl.”
“Yes, indeed, but sadly, the bloom has gone. Nothing would be left to chance, Mallory, regarding Ivy. Marisa would have checked the child out thoroughly. Marisa is a bit on the brisk side”—he could have used the word “abrasive” but glossed it over—“but she’s a very good paediatrician.”
“I’m sure she is. I have no problem with that, Ted. I just wanted to have a private word.”
“Something specific disturbing you?” Moorehouse’s expression had turned keenly professional.
“Ivy is a troubled little girl, a problematic child so I’ve been told, though I can’t say I’ve seen much sign of it. But I’ve only been here a short time. She’s a quirky little kid, on the mischievous side. I don’t hold that against her. Rather, it’s a plus. I’ve been told Ivy is left often in the care of her aunt Jessica. Jessica—let’s face it, Ted, we know from her past history Jessica is not good with children.”
“So where is this heading?” Ted asked with a frown. “You want to know what the home situation is?”
“In the land of plenty she’s underweight and her skin tone is not good.”
Ted patted her on the
shoulder. “After you left, no one in the town would speak to Kathy. She was a virtual pariah for a time. Everyone’s sympathy was with you and Robert, who is so supportive of the town. Even Jason and Jessica have long been estranged from their parents. They didn’t even attend the wedding.”
Shock mounted on shock. The Cartwrights hadn’t attended the wedding? She was getting the story in drips and drabs. “Uncle Robert didn’t mention that astounding piece of information. Neither did Blaine.”
Why would they bring up such a painful subject?
“It’s at odds with what I know of the Cartwrights,” Mallory continued. “Ivy is their only grandchild. You can turn your back on the daughter-in-law you didn’t want, but how can you possibly turn your back on your grandchild?”
Ted’s brilliant, all-seeing gaze fell.
Mallory flushed. “Okay then, my father turned his back on me. His problem was psychological. I was the one who should have died. That doesn’t explain the Cartwrights’ reaction. Ivy is a little girl who needs all the support she can get. She could spend quality time with her grandparents when she isn’t at school.”
“So what are you going on, Mallory, intuition?” he asked gently.
“I am speculating,” Mallory confessed. “We both know intuition is not science, but my intuitions regarding the children I’ve treated have never let me down. I could tell you some very sad cases I’ve intuited.”
“Don’t have to!” Ted grimaced. “I saw your strengths even as a child. Maybe you should talk to Marisa. You’re not a family member, that’s the thing.”
“I’m a professional who has concerns. I fully understand doctor-patient confidentiality. I just want to touch base with Dr. Farnsworth.”
“You could get the permission of her parents to treat the child,” Ted suggested, sounding none too hopeful.
“I’m sure that would be difficult indeed to get. I’ll make an appointment to see Dr. Farnsworth. I won’t keep you now, Ted. I know you’re busy. Thank you so much for looking after Uncle Robert.”
* * *
