Dark Awakening

by Sally Wentworth

  Minta gave a cry of fear as she fell and then lay still, too scared to move. Dane picked up the table and threw it across the room, then stood over her, his face murderous. In that moment Minta thought that she was going to die, that he would kill her. He loomed over her, his fists clenched, white and trembling with rage. But then his face twisted in pain and tears came into his eyes. Turning abruptly on his heel, he strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  Slowly Minta sat up, staring at the closed door. She didn't attempt to stand or start clearing up the mess, she just sat there, gazing at the door for a very long time.

  She didn't go to work that day, phoning the restaurant to say that she was sick, and that evening she had her second visitor. This time it wasn't entirely unexpected, but even so, when she opened the door and saw her father standing there, she could only stand dumbly, not knowing what to say. Then, whether it had been his intention or not, he stepped into the room, took her in his arms and held her for a long, wordless moment.

  'How did you find me?' Minta asked at last. 'Did Dane tell you?'

  'Yes, he phoned me this morning and more or less ordered me to come and get you. I caught the first plane.' He held her away from him. 'My dear child, what on earth's been happening to you?'

  She tried to smile. 'Nothing much. Everything.' Suddenly the tears were running down her cheeks. 'Oh, Daddy, I've been such a fool!'

  'Come on, you'd better tell me all about it.' He sat her down beside him on the edge of the bed, his arm round her, and listened as she poured it all out, all her doubts and suspicions, how she had left Dane, everything—except the one big lie she had told Dane at the end.

  'Yes, you have been a fool,' Richard Tennant agreed when she had finished. 'Most of all in coming to live here instead of coming home to me. But you always were as stubborn as a mule. Did you really think I wouldn't take you in?'

  'You didn't write to me or try to get in touch, not once,' Minta pointed out.

  'No—well, I admit I was more than a little angry, and I decided to let you make the first move. Pride, I suppose. But surely you knew that you could always come back and that I'd give you whatever help I could?'

  Minta stood up and moved across the room; she had tidied it again and there was no sign of Dane's fury except for a broken glass in the waste-paper-basket. 'It really doesn't matter now, does it? It's too late.'

  Her father looked at her narrowly. 'Dane said it was all over between you. Is that true?'

  She shrugged. 'What else did he say?'

  'Not a great deal. He said most of it when he came over to England just before Christmas, looking for you. He was convinced that you'd come back to me. He said then that you'd had a misunderstanding and you'd walked out. It threw him completely when he found you weren't with me. It threw me, too, if it comes to that.' He added grimly, 'We've both been frantic with worry about you.'

  'I'm sorry,' Minta said inadequately. 'But I had to get away, and I didn't think you wanted me.' She looked down at her hands. 'Did he tell you I was pregnant?'

  'Yes. But from something he said this morning, I gather that's no longer the case?'

  Minta didn't deny or confirm it, instead asking, 'Did you know that his brother had died?'

  'Yes, it was in the papers. And a couple of weeks later I received a letter from Dane saying that he no longer needed my bank's backing. A very curt letter, I might add. So it seems he managed to salvage something from the wreck of his brother's estate.

  'So that at least was true,' Minta murmured to herself.

  But her father heard her. 'I imagine that most of what he told you was true. I was dead against your marrying him because you'd known him such a short time and because he was stuck with trying to pay off his brother's debts. Not that he need have done, but it seemed a point of honour with him. And I was afraid that the gambling streak might have rubbed off on him, although I was completely wrong about that. And again, time-share projects are always a risky business until enough people start to buy. Everything seemed to be against him; I was sure he'd go under. Maybe I even wanted him to go under,' he admitted ruefully. 'I certainly didn't want him to take you away.'

  'Did you make him promise not to tell me that you'd let the bank back him?'

  'Yes.' He frowned. 'Maybe it would have been better if I hadn't made it a condition that he wouldn't tell you.'

  'Yes,' Minta agreed unsteadily, turning away. 'Maybe it would.'

  'Well, that's all water under the bridge. We'll go back to England and you can get a divorce, put all this behind you. Maybe in time you'll be able to forget it ever happened.' He looked at her hopefully, but Minta still stood with her back to him, gazing out of the window at the sky turning to dusk. 'Let me help you pack,' he offered. 'I've checked and there's a plane leaving for England later tonight. We could be at home by the morning.'

  She turned then, but he had a feeling that she hadn't been listening to him. 'I'm sorry, Daddy, but I'm not going back with you, not tonight at any rate. I have to see Dane once more and ask him to take me back.'

  'He said everything was finished, that the marriage was over.' 'Yes, I know. But that was because I lied to him about the baby. It made him—angry.'

  'I imagine it might have,' Richard Tennant agreed wryly. 'I take it you're still going to have it?'

  'Yes.'

  'My dear girl, what a hopeless mess you've got yourself into! Are you quite sure this is what you want? It's possible that Dane might react violently, you know.'

  'That's a risk I'll have to take,' she replied steadily.

  He looked at her for a long moment, then nodded. 'All right, I'll help you all I can. What would you like me to do?'

  Putting a hand on his arm, Minta smiled up at him. 'Thank you. But you don't have to if you'd rather not. I can manage alone, you know.'

  'So it seems. You've grown up, haven't you? You're not my little girl any more. Well,' he sighed rather sadly, 'I suppose I had to face up to it one day. But I'll still help, I want to. I'm afraid I'm more than a little to blame for what's happened to you.'

  'Then will you help me to get to Gran Canaria?'

  'Now? Tonight?'

  'Yes, it has to be tonight.'

  'All right, we'll see what we can do. You'd better start packing.'

  The last jet-foil had already left, but in the end they managed to get a passage on a small ferry-boat that was taking some workers across from one island to the other, arriving at Gran Canaria at about ten o'clock. Then they took a taxi to the house.

  Minta didn't get out at once. They sat looking out at the quiet, tree-lined street. 'Are you going to marry Maggie?' she asked at length.

  'Maggie?' He laughed. 'Now can you see Maggie marrying a grandfather?' Then, after a moment, 'I don't know. We got pretty close after you left. Maybe. I admit I thought about it.'

  'Good.' She reached out and took his hand. 'Marriage can be a pretty wonderful thing, can't it? When you get it right. Thank you for coming to find me. It means a great deal to me.'

  'My dear girl!' He held her for a minute and kissed her on the forehead. 'Good luck. I'll be out here, waiting.'

  'Only for ten minutes. Then you must go or you'll miss your plane. It calls here after Tenerife.'

  'Promise me you'll come home if it doesn't go well,' he said anxiously.

  'I promise. Tomorrow. Or I'll phone you. Goodbye, Daddy.'

  They clasped hands again and then Minta got out of the taxi, stood for a minute looking at the house, then squared her shoulders and walked determinedly towards it.

  She opened the gate and closed it quietly behind her, shutting out the outside world, the past, everything. There was a light shining out from the living-room and the curtains weren't drawn. Minta looked in and saw Dane sprawled in a chair, his jacket and tie off and his shirt undone. He had a glass in his hand. She used her key to unlock the front door and walked quietly into the room.

  He had obviously been drinking for some time; there was a half empty decant
er of whisky on the low table in front of him. He looked up when she walked in, but didn't jump or anything, just sat silently gazing at her through heavy-lidded eyes. 'You're real,' he said eventually.

  'Yes.'

  Dane motioned to the decanter. 'I'm drinking to forget you.'

  'And have you?'

  He gave a short, bitter laugh. 'Hell, no. How can I ever forget what you did to me? And I'm not drunk; I'm not even tight.' He put the glass on the table and pushed it away in disgust. 'What have you come back for? To put another knife in the wound?'

  'No.'

  'No,' he agreed bitterly. 'The wound's already mortal. So why? To collect the rest of your things? Go ahead; the sooner I see the last of you the better.'

  'No, that wasn't why I came back. I wanted to see you.'

  His jaw tightened and he reached out and filled his glass again, holding it so tightly that his knuckles showed white as he carried it to his mouth and emptied it. 'Okay, so now you've had your pound of flesh. Now get out of here.'

  'Not yet. Not until I've said what I came to say.'

  Dane looked at her with pain-filled eyes. 'For God's sake, Minta, get out of here. I can't take any more from you.'

  Immediately she was on her knees beside him. 'Oh, Dane, I'm sorry—I'm so terribly sorry. I didn't know. Not until I saw your face when I told you about the baby. I didn't understand. And I was so afraid for the baby. I didn't know what to do. And it was all so perfect, I couldn't believe that it could be so perfect…' The words came tumbling out as she gazed up at him entreatingly.

  'What the hell are you saying?' He caught hold of her shoulders and pushed her away from him.

  'I'm trying to tell you that I'm sorry. That I want to—that I want to come back.'

  He stared at her, then got angrily to his feet and strode across the room. 'Get out of here!' he shouted. 'Get out before I go mad! My God, do you think I can take any more of your games?'

  'It isn't a game; I mean it. Dane, I love you.'

  'You expect me to believe that?' He gave a shout of laughter.

  Minta's face went white, but she said bravely, 'Why not? You expected me to believe you against all the odds.'

  'But you didn't.' His lip curled derisively.

  'I couldn't take the risk, not when I had the baby to consider. But I never stopped loving you. And I never will. I just couldn't go on living what I thought was a lie.'

  His face bleak, Dane glared at her silently. From outside she heard the sound of a car starting up and driving away. Her father had given her far longer than the promised ten minutes.

  Dane turned away. 'How can you talk about caring for the baby after what you did?'

  'I can—make it up to you,' she said with difficulty.

  He swung round to face her. 'Give me more babies, do you mean? Nothing could take that child's place. It was conceived in a love that was mutually perfect, in a physical expression of that love that was the most wonderful thing I'd ever known. Or so I thought,' he added bitterly.

  'It could be again.' Minta put out a hand towards him, but he thrust it aside.

  'Oh, sure,' he said derisively. 'And I'd have to live with the constant thought that if I got you pregnant and we had the slightest misunderstanding about something, you'd go right out and have another abortion. Well, no, thanks. That isn't something I want on my conscience.'

  'Dane, please! Listen to me.' She put her hands on his arms appealingly. 'I—I lied to you. I wanted to hurt you and I said the first thing that came into my head. Do you understand? I didn't have an abortion. I'm still going to have the baby. All I ever wanted to do was to protect it—because it was yours. Because it was all I had left of you.' Her voice trailed away and she looked down, unable to meet his eyes.

  Dane stood very still, so silent that she could hear his heart beating, then a violent tremor ran through his body; she could feel it under her hands.

  'I know it was an unforgivable thing to do,' Minta said slowly, 'and I know I hurt you by walking out on you and not trusting you. I wanted to—oh, so much! You don't know what it was like; everything was against you and yet I couldn't stop loving you—didn't want to. But it was torture, like being torn apart. The weeks since I left you have been the worst I've ever known. I missed you so much. And I thought of you all the time, every day. My thoughts and my love were always yours. Always.' She lifted her head slowly to look at him, and found him gazing down at her intently, a new light in his eyes. 'That's why I came back at carnival time. I couldn't bear living without you. I wanted to see you again—just once.'

  'Oh, dear God!' Dane lifted his hands, slowly unclenched his fists and put them on her shoulders, then moved them down her back, drawing her towards him until she was standing against him. They stood silently for a while, too overwhelmed by emotion to speak, until Dane said huskily, 'You put me through the worst kind of hell today. I thought I'd lost you, that you'd completely turned against me. I don't know where I was heading. I only know that I didn't care any more, that nothing mattered unless I had you.'

  Her body trembling, Minta lifted tear-filled eyes to look into his. 'I know that saying sorry isn't enough, but I'll try and make it up to you, I swear I will. If—if you'll take me back.'

  'Take you back? How can I—when you never left my heart?'

  'Oh Dane!' She threw her arms round his neck and clung to him. 'I love you so much. Don't let me go— please don't ever let me go!'

  His arms tightened round her, crushing her to him so that he hurt her, moulding her body into his. He gave a strange, strangled groan and wound his hand in her hair, pulling her head back so that he could gaze into her face. Quickly he bent and took her mouth, kissing her with a desperate need, in a kiss that wasn't sexual, but more a reassurance of her presence, a confirmation of the love that had flared the first time they'd met and never really died. Now it burnt again, perhaps more intensely, and both of them knew with that kiss that nothing would ever come between them again.

  'I need you.' His lips moved down her throat, hot and insistent. 'God, how I need you!'

  'I know—oh, I know. It's been so long.' Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she moved against him, wanting to be closer still.

  Dane straightened up and looked at her, and now there was joy in his grey eyes. 'How long do we have— three months?'

  Minta smiled. 'About that.' 'Then I think we'd better make the most of it, don't you? The two of us.'

  'Until we become the three of us,' she agreed huskily.

  Dane smiled back at her, then put an arm round her waist, reached up to turn off the light, and led her from the room.