When his first ever playtime was over, when they were too tired to be brittle, too happily exhausted to argue as blazing day faded into a long, long night he told her.
Some.
Drip-fed her his torture—about the lying-down rooms they’d been sent to, about the staff. Though most of them had cared, quite simply there hadn’t been enough of anything to go around.
Not enough food, or clothes or nappies—the most basic necessities all lacking—and attention, affection, the most thinly stretched of them all.
Before he revealed anything though, he made it absolutely clear that he never wanted her sympathy or pity—but that if somehow, by knowing him, she could maybe understand him, maybe choose to stay, if that was what it took, then he would tell her.
‘She was his cleaner.’ Staring up at the sky as they lay together, wrapped in each other’s arms, he told her, walked her slowly through his very private hell.
‘When she fell pregnant…well, I am told my father said he would keep her as his mistress, that he would provide for her and the baby. But that was not enough for my mother. She wanted him to marry her, or at least be faithful… On both counts he refused. She was very proud, very headstrong….’
Millie smiled as he stated the obvious.
‘What?’
‘I like her already—you’re clearly your mother’s son.’
He frowned as if it had never entered his head—frowned and then smiled as he shrugged, as he accepted a little piece of his history. ‘To her family’s fury, she walked out on him.’
‘Her family’s fury?’
‘Her family disowned her—and that was okay. For more than three years we were okay. Until…’ He wasn’t smiling now, took a moment to regroup, to continue. ‘My father got married to Nina. She was pregnant with the twins, and my mother guessed that my father and Nina were planning to flee. He gave her a lot of money all of a sudden, and came round many nights in a row to play with me—but those are the sort of plans that can’t be discussed. She had a cough then. I can remember that. But he didn’t know how ill she was. All of a sudden my father wasn’t there any more, and my mother was really ill. When she left me at the baby house to go to the hospital she said my father would come.’
‘And they didn’t trace him…’
He gave a wry laugh, but it wasn’t mocking. ‘They were not even married. She registered me with his surname, and in Russia you take you father’s first name as your middle—Levander Ivanovich Kolovsky, which means Levander son of Ivan—but who was going to search? I was just one of many. Better than most, really.’
‘How?’
‘Because I had her for a little while… ‘ He closed his eyes and she didn’t know if he was blocking it out or seeing it again. ‘I had once seen normal—I knew how to behave, knew how to read, to write, because she had taught me. Without that I know I would have gone crazy.’
‘Like the child you told me about—the one who screamed at bedtime?’
‘Like him.’ Levander nodded. ‘But I am stronger because I had her. That is not me being sentimental—’ he checked that she understood ‘—already I knew normal—we were poor, but we were happy.’
‘You can really remember?’
‘Very well.’ He nodded again. ‘I had a lot of time to look back. I remember her reading, I remember her singing, I remember I swore and she slapped me…’ He actually laughed at the memory. ‘Most of the children there don’t even have that. They are abandoned there at birth—that is all they know. I did not scream or cry—I believed my father was one day going to come and get me, because that was the last thing she told me. I kept to myself when I could, and learned to defend myself when I couldn’t—and I studied hard. I achieved the Gold Medal at school, which goes to the best student. I was accepted at Moscow University, and then my father found me.’
‘He’d been looking?’
‘Apparently he sent money every month—and letters and cards, but I never saw them. I don’t know if my mother’s family kept the money. I just don’t know. Eventually he traced me. It caused a lot of problems when I came to Australia. Iosef and Aleksi were furious with my father. Furious that he had left me behind and that they had never been told. They tried hard to get close to me, but I just couldn’t trust them. I was not easy to live with. I was so angry with them—with the world.’
‘And now?’
‘Iosef left to study medicine as soon as he was old enough. Aleksi is in London. We have never been close. I never let them get close…’ he finally admitted.
‘What about Annika?’
‘Annika…’ He shook his head hopelessly. ‘She just wants everything to be fine.’
‘Can it ever be?’
‘I don’t know. This is the first time I have ever spoken about it….’ She thought about her own fears, her own doubts, her own worries, and tried to fathom never once voicing them.
‘They are so ashamed of the past…but it is my past, Millie. If they cannot accept that then they can never accept me. The finest tailor, the cars, the money—they only dress up the outside. That was my life, and they cannot face it. To this day my father and Nina live in fear that the secret will get out—that people will judge them…’
And it would be so easy to judge, Millie thought. So easy to loathe a man who could walk away from his own son.
‘He says that he regrets—’ His voice broke, just a tiny husk in that strong fluid voice, and it ripped through her. ‘He regrets what I have suffered, and now he is trying to make it up to me.’
‘Can he?’
‘I don’t know.’
She was crying as he answered, and trying so hard not to show it—scared to wipe the tears away in case he saw them. She could see now just how much Janey’s words would have eaten at him—that his own child might have existed unknown on the other side of the world…
‘All that time—all my life there—I wanted him to come and get me. I wanted him to see me and be proud—and in the end, yes, he did come and get me. I got my wish.’
But it was so very little, and so very late.
‘Can you?’ Millie rasped. ‘Can you somehow forgive him?’
‘That is something I need to decide.’ Levander nodded at the insurmountable challenge. ‘And given his health, I’d better make my decision soon.’
Levander’s next question pierced the long silence that followed. ‘Would marriage be so bad? Do you see now how important it is to me?’
‘It won’t keep us together…’ She swallowed hard, wondered how she could ask from him what she needed to hear. ‘Levander, if you don’t love me…a piece of paper isn’t going to change anything.’
‘It will change a lot for me.’
Which wasn’t the answer she wanted. Even if he was trying to help, with each word he just hurt her more.
‘I would look after you; I would never be unfaithful; I would always do the right thing by you. And if you still have doubts, then I tell you this—we don’t have to love each other for this to work. We will love our child, and that will be enough.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
‘THE MALDIVES, PERHAPS…?’ Katina suggested, handing Levander a thick brochure.
He gave it barely a glance, glancing down at his watch and clearly itching to get back to work. ‘Any preference, Millie?’
‘I don’t know…’ Millie mumbled, hating that they were back. Her suntan was fading only marginally more slowly than her hopes for the future she had been so full of on the island—hopes that had convinced her to say yes to the wedding.
Back in the real world—back where clocks ticked and people demanded and schedules dictated—she wasn’t quite so sure they could make it. Wasn’t quite so sure that a baby, that sex, was going to be enough to see them through.
‘We’ll have to go to London and see my family—they’ll want to meet you.’
‘They will meet me at the wedding,’ Levander answered easily. But, seeing her worried face, he gave a little frown. ‘There is
no problem—I will pay for them to come out, absolutely.’
‘It’s not the money,’ Millie said, blushing as Katina coolly listened on. ‘They won’t be able to come to Australia even if they could afford it. Austin could never go on a plane—it would be too distressing for him. Mum and Dad have enough trouble getting him into a car—he hates anything like that.’
‘Who’s Austin?’ Katina asked, pen poised.
‘Millie’s brother.’
‘And he doesn’t like to travel?’
God, she hated this—hated having to explain herself to strangers. Hated that they’d been back in Melbourne only a few days and they were already in their second meeting.
A meeting to arrange their wedding.
Somehow, the fact that he could never love her had made her decision easier.
No more pretending that in time love might grow. No more kidding herself that he wanted her for any other reason than the baby they had made.
And even if her heart said she was marrying for all the wrong reasons, on the flipside it told her she was marrying for the right ones.
She loved Levander—loved him enough to give him the security he craved for his child.
Loved their baby enough to give it one home.
‘Would you prefer we marry in London?’ Levander offered. Katina’s lips pursed, but Millie shook her head, thinking of the pressure on her family, the nightmare of her mum attempting to socialise with the Kolovskys.
‘I think here might be better.’
‘Then we will marry here and go to London for the honeymoon,’ Levander suggested. And even though it made perfect sense—even though he had offered her the choice—not for the first time she felt railroaded, as if the Kolovskys had got their way once again.
‘I just don’t see why it has to be so soon,’ Millie attempted again.
‘It is not so soon,’ Levander said dismissively. ‘In Russia, a marriage normally happens quickly—between one and three months after the engagement is announced. And given you are already five months pregnant…surely it is better we marry quickly? Get it over with…’
He made it sound like a trip to the dentist.
‘The Kolovskys calendar is full for the next three months,’ Katina explained, a little less patiently than she had the last ten times. ‘And anyway, if we leave it much longer you’re going to have rather a job getting into the dress.’
Another thing she hadn’t thought about.
‘Do you have any brochures? I don’t know…’ She gave a helpless shrug. ‘So I can get an idea of what I want…’
‘An idea of what you want?’ Katina stared at her in bemusement.
‘For my dress.’
‘Millie—you’re marrying Levander. Did you really think we’d be sending you down to the local bridal shop? Your dress is already taken care of. Nina herself is going to come and do the final fittings. Right.’ Shuffling her notes, Katina stood up. ‘Have a think about your honeymoon and let me know tomorrow…’
‘Final fittings?’ Millie turned on Levander the second they were alone. ‘I wasn’t wrong that night—I actually thought I was being ridiculous, but my dress is already chosen—already hanging there half made, waiting for a bride to step into it.’
‘Of course.’ Levander looked at her as if she were completely mad. ‘There are probably fifty gowns there—and you will get the best one, naturally. Now, if that is all, then I should get back to work.’
* * *
Even though her mind was abuzz with wedding preparations, and her nights were filled with Levander, as the days slipped by more and more Millie realised her idea of a family and Levander’s were poles apart.
The tenderness they had found on the island seemed to have evaporated as soon as they’d touched down on the mainland. The only trace of it to be found was in the nights, when he reached for her, but it only disintegrated again every morning.
And for Millie the disquiet grew.
The uneasy homesickness that washed in at times positively overwhelmed her each and every time she rang her family to update them on the rapidly approaching wedding day. Hearing her mother’s genuine wonder and delight as she asked about the baby’s progress was such a contrast to Nina’s coldness that it was almost more than Millie could bear.
* * *
‘I’m having the teeniest panic attack.’ On the eve of her wedding, Anton was in his element when Millie dropped by, humming the ‘Wedding March’ as Millie paced on. ‘And I want you to be completely honest with me. Would it be a terrible faux pas to wear Kolovsky to a Kolovsky wedding?’
She had to laugh. ‘You’re asking me for fashion advice?’
‘I know.’ He clapped his hands to his cheeks. ‘Oooh, thank you, thank you, thank you, for asking me to give you away—it’s going to be the happiest day of my life.’
At least it would be for one of them, Millie thought, bursting into tears for the forty-second time that day.
‘It’s nerves,’ Anton assured her.
‘It is,’ Millie sniffed. She badly wanted to talk, to tell someone her tumble of thoughts, but after Janey it was just too big, too scary to indulge in something as simple as a much-needed talk between friends. But as she went to grab her bag, as she thought of going back to the hotel to have Nina sticking pins in her for the final check that her dress was perfect, Millie baulked. ‘I don’t know if I can do this, Anton.’
‘It’s definitely nerves, honey,’ Anton insisted, pulling out a vast hanky and trying to make her smile as she wiped her eyes. ‘You know you’re the most hated woman in Australia at the moment!’
His weak attempt at humour didn’t work.
‘I want my mum!’
‘Oh, you poor baby…’
He led her to the back of the gallery, where he made her a big mug of hot chocolate with marshmallows. It was the kindest thing anyone had done for her since she’d landed there—the kindest thing anyone had done for her without wanting something in return.
‘I know it must kill you not to have your family here, but you do have friends. I was at the airport when you arrived back, you know…’ He smiled at her shocked expression. ‘You know I never sleep—I popped out to get the paper and there was that filth sprawled all over it. I figured you could use some moral support—not that I even got close… Talk to me, Millie.’
‘I can’t.’
‘I know after Janey you’re afraid to trust anyone,’ he said gently, and as she opened her mouth to argue he spoke over her. ‘But I am on your side. I’ll come over tonight the second I lock up, and I won’t leave your side till the wedding…’ He gave a tiny wince. ‘I’ve just got to pop to the hairdresser’s at midday.’
‘I’m sure there’ll be one in my room you can use,’ Millie said with a wry smile, but Anton shook his head.
‘Luigi would never forgive me. I’m going to hold your hand every step of the way. Once the wedding’s over, once everything’s calmed down, things will be so much easier…’
‘I hope so.’
‘I guess the question is—do you love him?’ He didn’t follow it up with anything silly—just asked her the one thing in all this she could answer honestly.
‘Of course.’
‘Well, that’s all right, then.’
* * *
‘How is your mother?’ Levander asked, sitting on the bedroom chair and smothering a yawn.
‘Teary,’ Millie admitted, standing in her dress as Nina and Sophia, the dressmaker, tugged none too gently. She hated how clinical it all was—hated that a silly little thing like him seeing her in her dress before the big day mattered to her so. ‘Wishing she could be here.’
‘You’ll see her very soon.’
‘I know.’ Millie stared fixedly ahead wishing it was two o’clock tomorrow and it was all over with.
‘I have to go soon…’ Levander glanced at his watch
‘Fine.’
‘Iosef’s plane is due in—I’d like to be there to meet him. We are going out for
dinner with my father.’
‘Of course.’
‘Perfect.’ Nina stood back and admired her top dressmaker’s handiwork—as well she might. A sheath of thick ivory Kolovsky silk had been sculpted to Millie’s body, every stitch, every nip, somehow turning her into the beautiful bride she had to be. ‘Sophia will be over tomorrow to help with any last-minute alterations. Now, no eating from now till after the wedding.’ Nina frowned, running a very unwelcome hand over Millie’s slight bump. ‘I can get you some of the special herbal tea the models use—to get a bit of fluid off.’
Millie didn’t even deign to respond—just peeled off the dress and stood silent as Nina flounced out of the bedroom, carrying the dress as if it were some precious child.
‘Ignore her,’ Levander said.
‘Oh, I assure you I try.’
‘I know it is hard—to marry without your family. But it is not as if…’ He didn’t finish, so Millie did it for him.
‘It’s not as if it’s a real wedding.’
‘Of course it is real,’ Levander countered, but Millie shook her head.
‘You know, this should be like a dream come true—a fabulous wedding, A-list guests, a designer dress, a baby on the way, the man—’ She stopped herself. How she wanted to tell him how she felt—that she loved him so much it hurt. Even if she understood that they were marrying for the sake of the child they had created it was killing her inside to know that was the only reason. That if it wasn’t for their baby Levander Kolovsky would never have considered her as his bride. ‘I guess it’s true—we should be more careful what we wish for.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘It’s a saying—be careful what you wish for, it might come true.’
As she delivered the saying the confusion that had been etched on his face disappeared. All expression did. Always pale, his skin was now as white as marble; even those beautiful lips were dusky in his grey features.
Playing the Dutiful WifeExpecting His Love-Child Page 26
