Nicola maintained a straight face as she thanked Margaret, but once the door closed on her she turned to Brett and said humorously, ‘You do get them in—at all ages and in all shapes. I suppose it is a bit of a problem.’
He didn’t respond as she stood up to pour the coffee.
‘Do you have any solutions?’ she asked with some irony as she sat down again.
He picked up the silver pen and doodled on a yellow legal pad for a moment, then raised his gaze to hers. ‘It could all be a storm in a teacup, Nicola.’
She blinked. ‘That your children now think we are man and wife—in every sense of the words—and that they were worried about me leaving? You surprise me, Brett.’
He lifted his shoulders. ‘Let’s not get too emotional, Nicola. They are only five and six. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if, assuming we carry on as before, they settle down and we do so too.’
She gazed at him, all set to refute this, but common sense asserted itself. ‘They may,’ she said slowly at last, ‘but surely it’s only prolonging things? They’re still going to wonder as they get older, and—’
‘They’re also going to become less dependent on you as they get older, and better able to understand things.’
‘But…’ She frowned with an effort to think straight again. ‘Where does that leave me?’
He got up and came round to sit on the corner of the desk. ‘You have a few options,’ he said quietly. ‘Staying with us until you’re twenty-three is probably the most sensible of them.’
Her eyes widened. ‘I couldn’t.’
‘Why not?’ he asked conversationally.
‘I…’ She stared at him helplessly.
‘So far as your rising career as a potter goes, you couldn’t be better set up than you are now, and if it is a career you’re hankering for—’ he smiled briefly ‘—now you’ve got it, you might find all the angst, inadequacy and uncertainty you’ve been experiencing is gone.’
If she could have found the words to refute this without giving herself away she would have done so, but there was worse to come, she discovered.
‘Another option,’ he went on, ‘is to do with what happened two nights ago.’
She swallowed. ‘I don’t…’ She cleared her throat. ‘I don’t think we should place much importance on what happened two nights ago.’
‘No?’ There was a gleam of pure mockery in his eyes for a moment, then he went on gravely, ‘Why is that?’
‘I told you…what happened.’
‘You told me a lot of things, gave me a lot of possible motivations, but I can’t help wondering whether it wasn’t quite simple, actually. Simple jealousy. Of Tara.’
Nicola stood up and her hand flashed out, but he caught her wrist. ‘My, my, you are becoming a little wildcat, Nicola,’ he said gently, but lethally.
‘I’m not—you’re enough to make me…do anything,’ she retorted bitterly. ‘Let me go.’
‘No. Not until I’m assured you don’t have any further violent intentions towards me. Unless…’ He narrowed his eyes and looked her up and down, taking in the way her breathing was affecting the front of her ice-blue jacket, then his gaze returned to hers. ‘Unless this is something else?’
‘What?’
‘Another manifestation of your sudden desire to experiment? Test your powers of attraction, that kind of thing,’ he suggested.
‘Now why would I bother?’ she countered swiftly.
‘You made it so very clear that I was only to be taught a lesson. You could hardly,’ she said with irony, ‘expect me to believe there was any attraction on your side, and—’
‘That’s debatable,’ he broke in.
‘And…’ She paused with a frown. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You must have a short memory,’ he murmured, and his gaze roamed over her in a way that brought a tide of colour to her cheeks.
To make matters worse, she was again afflicted by the consciousness that this tall, clever man, even when she thought she hated him, as now, could reduce her body to an incredible desire to be one with his. Even now, she thought with some despair, I still want him.
She took a breath and said barely audibly, ‘Let me go, Brett.’
He released her wrist but made no other move, and she shook out her hair and ran her fingers through it. He watched enigmatically, and she sat down again and said tensely, ‘Where were we?’
The faintest smile touched his mouth. ‘Examining the possibility of you being jealous of Tara. Nicola, about what happened two nights ago—’
‘Look, you got me in very cleverly with a—fantasy you conjured up, but that’s all it was. I’m sure it meant no more to you than that.’
‘Well…’ he raised a wry eyebrow ‘…since you mention it, that’s what I thought this might be. Another fantasy—let’s say yet another fantasy.’
Her cheeks burned, but her eyes burned brighter—with anger. ‘That’s not fair, Brett.’
‘No? All the same, this time is a more exciting, rather dangerous encounter. Didn’t you know that to be thoroughly angry with each other can lend an extra dimension to sensual encounters? Or, to put it more bluntly, that slapping a man’s face can be an invitation of another kind?’ he said softly.
Nicola choked. Then she managed to say, ‘It’s not that. As for Tara, she does…yes—’ she gestured frustratedly ‘—she annoys me intensely. For example, what business is it of hers how I got on with Richard?’
Brett smiled faintly. ‘She’s probably got that message by now, too. But, to get back to the options I mentioned, there is another one. We could…’ He paused, and their gazes clashed as Nicola had a premonition of something momentous to come. ‘We could make this a real and very proper marriage.’
Her lips parted and her voice seemed not to want to work, until finally she said huskily, ‘Would you really do that, Brett? Marry—completely—someone you don’t love, for the sake of your children?’
His lips twisted. ‘Love…is not as simple as you may think, Nicola.’
She stared into his hazel eyes. ‘Is that a way of saying once bitten twice shy?’
A nerve flickered in his jaw and he hesitated, then answered, ‘Perhaps. But we have an awful lot going for us. We live in a lot more domestic harmony than many others—the Masons, for example.’ He looked wry. ‘We don’t drive each other crazy with any irritating little habits—I’m sure they’d have surfaced by now. And we cope pretty well with two children. Believe me, that’s quite a test. You could almost say we were very properly married in most respects.’
Nicola looked away and remembered wondering whether to tell Brett the truth this afternoon… But, if anything, this catalogue of what they had going for them said it all, she thought. He didn’t love her, perhaps he would never love again, but at least he’d been honest.
I could still do it, though, she thought. It would take away all this awful pretence. But what else would it achieve? Perhaps it’s what I should have done straight away, instead of getting angry and—all the rest. But—no, then he’d feel sorry for me…
‘And,’ he said, ‘what happened the other night, and last night—talking of fantasies and moons et cetera—is an indication that that side of marriage would be no problem.’
She flinched inwardly and looked back at him, a clear, blue, but thoroughly unreadable look.
‘Nicola,’ he said, but she got up abruptly and walked over to the window with her arms wrapped around her, as if to ward off the chill that was invading her.
‘Nicola,’ he said again, from right behind her, although she hadn’t heard him cross the carpet, ‘tell me what you’re thinking. Something has changed and I need to know.’
It was nearly a full minute before she turned. ‘All right. Tara—in a way she did change things. I suppose she highlighted the fact that I haven’t made anything of my life so far—’
‘Tara is over thirty, Nicola. And having a law degree, or being a concert pianist for that matter, is only one area
of a life. I’ve told you before, you’re intelligent and artistic, and there’s no need to feel inadequate.’
She raised her eyebrows. ‘It wasn’t only that. I…well, I have to confess I suddenly looked around and pictured her in charge of the house, of the children. I could see her lording it over Ellen and—I discovered I didn’t like the thought of it one bit.’
‘So that means,’ he said quietly, ‘you enjoy being mistress of my house, Nicola?’
‘I…I must,’ she said shakily. ‘Not that it’s so surprising,’ she added with an attempt at humour. ‘Most girls would give their eye-teeth to be in my position. You’re a very marriageable man in most respects, Brett.’
He didn’t reply immediately, although a spark of amusement lit his eyes—only to die almost at once.
‘And then there is the fact,’ she went on, while she still had the courage, ‘that to be part of a family means such a lot to me. More than most, I guess. But I still—I mean, it can’t go on for ever, so…’ She shrugged.
‘There’s no reason it can’t go on for the time being, as it has been going on, but—’ He stopped and swore as the phone rang.
He strode across the room and picked it up. ‘Margaret, I thought I told you—’ He stopped and his expression of irritation altered to something different. Nicola took an unsteady breath.
‘What is it?’ she said fearfully as he put down the phone after a few curt enquiries.
‘Chris. He fell off the jungle gym in the park and broke his leg. Ellen called an ambulance and they’ve just arrived at the Calvary Hospital.’
‘Oh, no!’ Nicola went white. ‘Why did I leave them!’
Brett grimaced and put his arms around her as she swayed where she stood. ‘It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. He was probably showing off. And, according to Ellen, Sasha is the more distraught of the two.’
Nicola smiled palely, but the thought of Sasha brought something else to mind. ‘Marietta! Shouldn’t we let her know?’
‘It so happens that Marietta is on her way home.’ Brett smoothed her hair with one hand. ‘She rang me this morning from Singapore. She’ll be up here on Saturday.’
‘Oh, I thought—I didn’t realise she was planning to come home! What will we do? She might have to come and stay with us. It’ll be easier than coping with Chris on her own.’
‘I don’t think that would work,’ he said after a moment, with that shade of grimness in his voice that was often associated with any mention of his ex-wife.
‘But I don’t mind—and she is their mother,’ Nicola said.
For some reason this caused him to gaze down at her with something like a tinge of irony in his eyes, causing Nicola to chew her lip and consider that she might have been tactless. ‘It’s also a bit of a crisis,’ she added lamely.
He smiled faintly and shrugged at the same time, as if the irony of it was apparent to him alone, then said, ‘The thing is, the reason she’s coming home is because she has a new man in her life.’
Nicola blinked. ‘Who?’ she asked dazedly.
‘An oboe player. I really don’t think we need to share the house with half an orchestra, even in a bit of a crisis, do you? Naturally, she’s welcome to visit any time.’
Nicola closed her mouth and suddenly leant her forehead on his shoulder.
He said nothing, but held her gently, and she felt the warmth of him through his shirt, his strength that was so close, and for an instant she was tempted to break down and say simply, I love you, Brett. But the problem is, what’s the use of being in love with someone who’s not the slightest bit in love with you? And I could never live with what you call a real marriage if I knew it was inspired by the desire to fool Marietta into thinking you were over her.
‘Nicola?’
She lifted her head. ‘Sorry. Life just gets a bit complicated at times.’
‘You’re not wrong.’ He smiled crookedly. ‘Shall we take it one crisis at a time for the moment?’
‘Of course.’ She stiffened. ‘Let’s go—what am I thinking about? Poor Chris!’
It was a clean break, with no complications, and would heal quickly, the doctor assured them. They were able to take Chris home with them, his right leg encased in a plaster cast from his thigh to his toes, a few hours later.
Probably still on a high from being so much the centre of attention, Chris was putting an extremely brave face on things, but Sasha was a different matter. She couldn’t do enough for her brother, and was obviously highly worked up.
‘I’m not sure what’s worse—to have them fighting or this,’ Brett said ruefully at one stage.
Then bedtime came, and he decided to move Chris’s bed into his room.
‘You can sleep with me, Sash,’ Nicola said quickly as Sasha looked hurt.
‘Good thinking, Gunga Din,’ Brett murmured, and later he came to say goodnight to them.
Sasha was asleep by this time, curled up like a kitten beside Nicola. ‘She’ll be better tomorrow,’ Nicola whispered, and stroked Sasha’s curls.
Brett said nothing, but gazed at his daughter, then lifted his hazel eyes to his wife’s with a clear question in them.
‘Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.’ Nicola swallowed. ‘This isn’t the—’
‘The time or the place?’ he finished for her, and she thought his mouth hardened briefly. But he added, ‘Point taken. Sleep well.’ And he closed the door quietly.
Nicola switched off the bedside lamp and cuddled up to Sasha. The thing is, she thought desolately, will there ever be a right time or place for me where you’re concerned, Brett?
He took the day off work the next day, and was soon doing a jigsaw puzzle with the kids whilst Nicola helped Ellen make the beds.
For once, Ellen chose to make her feelings plain. ‘Their mother,’ she said darkly, having been apprised of Marietta’s imminent arrival on the scene. ‘Last thing we need, if you ask me. She was always good at stealing the limelight!’
Nicola made a neat nurse’s corner with sheet and blanket and walked to the other side of the bed. ‘She is still their mother, Ellen.’
Ellen snorted. ‘Some mother. Could you have walked out on two babies? That’s all they were! Mind you, I don’t know why I was surprised. I saw more of them than she did after the first few months. Always at that dratted piano, she was, and never to be disturbed.’
‘Lots of mothers work,’ Nicola pointed out.
‘Lots of mothers have to work, in order to put food in their mouths and a roof over their heads.’
Nicola acknowledged this with a shrug, but said, ‘Can you imagine her sitting home twiddling her thumbs all day, though?’
‘She’d be like a caged tiger. But you should think of these things before you have a family!’
Nicola sighed. ‘I don’t think very artistic people are like the rest of us, though. I think their art drives them—and there’s not much they can do about it.’
‘You’re more understanding than most,’ Ellen said dryly. ‘Do you know what she said to him once? You probably don’t; you weren’t here right in the thick of things like I was. She said, “Just give me five years, Brett, that’s all I need, then I’ll be anything you want me to be. But if I fade out now, I’ll never make it back again.’” Ellen shook her head.
Nicola bent over and plumped up pillows energetically so her face was hidden. ‘What did he say to that?’
But Ellen suddenly seemed to remember herself. ‘Well, now,’ she said awkwardly, ‘I can’t quite recall.’
‘Ellen—’ Nicola stood up and contrived to look only amused ‘—that’s so frustrating!’
Ellen shrugged. ‘He said…if her career was more important to her than he and her children were, then she had a clear choice. It or them. Of course she came back, sharp as a tack. She asked him why, and was he saying his career was more important than hers?’ She smiled. ‘But he got her there. He said he wasn’t proposing to drag two small children round the world; he was quite happy
to make a stable, solid home for them.’
Nicola smoothed the bedspread as she absorbed all of this.
‘I don’t think,’ Ellen said slowly as she straightened with a hand to her back, ‘she ever believed he’d do it, you know. But she didn’t know him like I do. He’s a hard man to cross.’
‘I believe you,’ Nicola murmured with an inward shiver.
‘But there now—’ Ellen’s face softened ‘—they couldn’t be better off than they are with you. All of them,’ she added somewhat cryptically, then said immediately, ‘Now, what shall I make them for lunch? I know, hamburgers and chips. Why is it that kids always like the things that aren’t good for them?’ And she bustled away to attack the next bed.
During the afternoon Chris became fractious and tearful, so they called in their own doctor who said that it was only delayed shock and administered a mild sedative. After taking a look at Sasha—he was a father of four children himself—he did the same for her, to her intense gratification. He also suggested they hire a wheelchair for Chris until he got the hang of his crutches.
Everyone was more back to normal after an afternoon sleep.
Not that it was something she usually did, but Nicola lay down as well, and slept deeply and dreamlessly for an hour. She changed when she got up, into khaki shorts and a simple primrose cotton blouse.
Chris was delighted with his wheelchair when it arrived, and they all sat down to an early dinner together.
Richard Holloway, with a folder full of drawings under his arm, called just as they’d finished. Nicola remembered ruefully that he’d said he would, and grimaced at the short, sharp little glance Brett shot her.
‘I forgot,’ she said honestly.
‘I think I can guess why,’ Richard responded as he took in the scene. ‘What have you done to yourself, old man?’ he asked of Chris.
‘Fell off the gym in the park and broke his leg,’ Sasha supplied, while Chris swelled with importance.
‘Well, now, can I be the first to sign your cast?’
And to the children’s delight he not only signed the cast but drew a picture of a frog on it—because, he said, Chris would be hopping around a bit like a frog for a while. Then he drew a little girl dressed up as a nurse on the back of Sasha’s hand, and she assured him she would never wash it off.
He's My Husband! Page 9
