‘Shh. Come on, he’ll be all right,’ he murmured, his voice ragged. ‘He’ll come round.’
‘No, I won’t,’ Jem sobbed from the depths of the pillow. ‘I won’t be all right. Leave me alone! I hate you both! Go away!’
And then she felt Nick shudder, felt the pain tearing through him, and she slid her arms around his waist and hung on.
‘Come on, let’s give him some space,’ he muttered after a few seconds, but she wouldn’t leave him.
‘I can’t go. Not now. You go, leave me with him. I’ll talk to him.’
‘Will you be all right?’
She lifted her tear-stained face to him and tried to smile. ‘I’ll have to be, won’t I? I have to do this, Nick. He’s my son.’
A tremor ran through him, and he stood up. ‘I’ll see you later—I’ll give you an hour. Call me if you need me to come back,’ he said, and, closing the curtains around the bed, he walked swiftly away.
* * *
She watched him go, listened to the sound of his footsteps retreating, and then she turned back to Jem, biting her lip and wondering how on earth she could unravel this sorry mess of hurt and lies and broken trust that they’d created.
She had no idea. She just knew she had to find a way.
Tentatively, with nothing but love on her side, she reached out her hand and touched him.
‘I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,’ she said unsteadily, and after a moment he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her.
‘Why?’ he asked, his voice breaking. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? I could have kept a secret. All these years, I thought I didn’t have a dad, that I’d never have a dad. And then you met Rob, and I thought maybe he could be my stepdad, but all the time I had a real father, and I didn’t know!’
‘I know. But you do at least know him, even if you didn’t realise he was your father. I’ve made sure you see him regularly, and he knows you, and all about you. I did everything I could under the circumstances. Don’t blame him, Jem. It was my fault, too, and he didn’t have any choice. I kept it from him too. And I’m so sorry we’ve hurt you.’
He sniffed, but the tears still welled, and, unable to bear it, she got up and leant over, taking him gently into her arms, and he burrowed his face into the side of her neck.
* * *
Nick held it together just long enough to get out of St Piran, and then he pulled over on the coast road into a parking area, got out of the car and sucked in a lungful of the fresh, salt air.
If he’d been that sort of man, he could have wept bitter, anguished tears for the son he’d let down and all the years that had been lost. Years he couldn’t give him back, years that were gone for ever. But he wasn’t, and so he shoved it all aside and concentrated his efforts on the future.
If it took him till the end of his life, he vowed, he’d do his best to build a relationship with this child.
He got back in the car and drove to his house. There were some things he needed to pick up, and he could be alone there, think things through.
Except he wasn’t alone. Sam Cavendish was there, just coming out of his mother’s house next door, and he propped himself against the fence and frowned at Nick.
‘You look like hell. Fancy a drink?’
‘No, I’m going back to the hospital. We just told him.’
Sam winced sympathetically. ‘Ouch. How did it go?’
‘Pretty much as expected. Why don’t you come in? I don’t really want to talk about it here.’
So Sam followed him into the house and propped himself up on the worktop while Nick put the kettle on, for something to do as much as anything.
‘So—what happened?’ Sam prompted.
Nick sighed and rammed a hand through his hair. ‘There was a kid in there having a blood transfusion, and Jem was asking about where his own blood transfusion had come from, and it sort of followed from there. He’s the same blood group as me.’
‘Yeah, Jack told me,’ Sam said. ‘And how did he take it?’
‘Badly. He’s angry. He said he’d spent nearly eleven years thinking he didn’t have a father, and all the time he did, and he said...’ His voice cracked, and he coughed again and flexed his fingers. ‘He said he didn’t care if I was complete rubbish, it was better than being dead.’
Sam snorted. ‘Well, I’d agree with him if my own wasn’t so useless he might as well be dead, but what made him think you’d be rubbish?’
‘I did. I told him James was a hard act to follow, that he might have preferred a hero. Apparently not. I didn’t realise Jack had told you about the blood group thing.’
‘Mmm. He was angry, but he’s not really surprised.’
Nick’s head snapped up and he stared at Sam, stunned. ‘What makes you say that?’
Sam laughed softly. ‘Oh, come on, Nick, everyone knows you’ve always loved Kate.’
They did? Well, why the hell hadn’t they all reminded him of that in Freshers’ Week when he’d been busy drinking himself senseless and making love to the first pretty girl who’d had enough alcohol to make her forget her common sense and sleep with him—the pretty girl who’d told him four weeks later that she was pregnant, and nine months later had presented him with twins, and then a year later with another son, while he’d worked his way through university supported by their parents and tried not to think about the girl he’d left behind. Had Annabel known she wasn’t his first choice? Had she known he’d only done the decent thing and made the best marriage he could with the hand fate had dealt him? He sincerely hoped not, but if his feelings had been so obvious to everyone else, then why not to her?
And she’d sent him into Kate’s arms, the night of the storm, almost as if she’d known that only Kate could comfort him.
‘I tried to love her,’ he murmured, as much to himself as to Sam, then he lifted his head and met Sam’s eyes. ‘I did love her, and I tried to be a good husband, and I think we had a good marriage, but maybe I was deluding myself.’
‘I don’t think so. I remember her—I grew up next door, don’t forget. I spent a lot of time in this house. It was like a second home to me at one point. And she always seemed very happy, contented. At peace. She had a good life with you and a lovely family. I don’t think you let her down, Nick. And she’s been gone five years now. I think if anything you let yourself down, cheated yourself, and Kate, for too long. And maybe now it’s time to do something positive about that.’
Sam shrugged away from the worktop, clapped Nick on the shoulder and headed for the front door. ‘I’m going home to my wife and child. And tomorrow we’re going house-hunting.’
Nick followed him through to the hall.
‘Why?’
Sam laughed. ‘Because my ankle doesn’t like the hill and Gemma can’t lift the buggy up the steps into the house. And we need to be nearer my mother.’
‘How much nearer?’ he asked, an idea dawning. ‘Like—next door?’
Sam’s eyes narrowed and he tilted his head on one side. ‘Next door? As in, here?’
He nodded. ‘There’s a barn. I’ve just moved into it with Kate, so that when Jem comes out of the hospital in a few days he can live on the flat for a bit until he’s got his mobility back—assuming he’s speaking to us by then. And it’s for sale. We’re renting it at the moment, but I think it’s time to move on, time to lay Annabel’s ghost to rest, whatever happens with me and Kate and Jeremiah. So I’m going to sell this house, and buy the barn, and then if it works out...’
Sam’s jaw sagged slightly, and then he laughed. ‘Really? You’re selling? How much?’
He shrugged. ‘I have no idea. It’s the least of my worries. I won’t cheat you, Sam.’
Sam grinned. ‘I’ll make sure of it. Talk to the agents—let me know. And I’ll go and sound Gemma out, but I know what she’ll say. She loves this house, and so do I.’
Nick felt himself smile as the weight lifted a little. ‘I know you do,’ he said. ‘And it needs another family.’
CHAPTER NINE
HE FOUND Kate in the deserted café, sitting nursing a stale cup of coffee and looking like death.
He sat down opposite her and took the cup out of her hands. It was stone cold, and he tutted softly and wrapped her hands in his to warm them. ‘How is he?’
She shrugged. ‘They had to give him some more morphine and something to help him sleep. I think it was all the upset...’
She trailed off, and he sighed, stroking his thumb over the back of her hand. ‘What did he say? After I left.’
She shrugged again, a helpless little gesture that made his heart ache for her. ‘He’s just really shocked, I think. It’s a lot for him to take in. I explained to the staff—the night sister and Megan Phillips. They were really nice to him. Megan, especially, was really lovely. She’s such a nice girl. And I rang Jess Carmichael, and she came up and talked to me for a minute while he was asleep, and she makes so much sense. She’s going to come and see him when he’s feeling a little better and let him talk it through with her.’
‘Do you think he will?’ Nick asked, not sure about the idea of unburdening to a counsellor, but Kate nodded.
‘I think so. He likes her. He talked to her before, when I was ill.’ She sighed. ‘Nick, I’m really tired, can you take me home?’ she asked, and his heart contracted.
‘Sure,’ he said softly, and, helping her to her feet, he wrapped an arm round her shoulders and led her out to the car.
‘So much for Ben’s chilli,’ she said as they went into the house, and he just pulled her into his arms and held her while the dog sniffed and wagged around their feet. She was exhausted, and she had to be hungry. He was—or his body was. His heart wasn’t in the least bit interested in anything as trivial as food, but for her sake, he’d fix them something to eat and make sure she ate it.
‘I’ll cook us something quick,’ he said, giving her a last little hug and letting her go. ‘We can have more of the cold pie, or toast, or anything you want.’
‘Toast,’ she said. ‘Toast and a nice, hot cup of tea. And it’s cold—I know it’s April, but do you think it would be possible to put the heating on?’
‘Want me to light the fire?’
She glanced at the big woodburner and sighed longingly. ‘Oh, that would be lovely. Is there any wood?’
He nodded. ‘There’s a pile out in the cart lodge, I’ll get some while I’m taking the dog out. I’ll put the kettle on, you go and sit down. You look done in.’
* * *
‘Do you think we could have done things any differently?’ she asked later, as they lay side by side with their legs stretched out towards the fire and its living hearthrug.
Nick stared at the dog and wondered what it must be like to have no responsibilities. ‘In what way?’ he asked. ‘Do you mean the way we told him now, or if we should have told him years ago? Either way, I don’t know. I don’t think there was a right way, under the circumstances, but I wish you’d told me sooner, Kate. I wish I’d known, right back at the beginning. I would have made sure I saw more of him.’
‘How?’ she asked, turning her head to face him, searching his eyes and finding only confusion that mirrored her own. ‘You were working in Wadebridge, living in Penhally, and I can see your house from mine—I could look across sometimes and see Annabel hanging the washing out! How were you going to spend time with him, under those circumstances, without arousing suspicion? And I didn’t want to do that to you, to put you under that sort of pressure for something that hadn’t been your fault.’
‘Of course it was my fault!’ he said. ‘I heard you crying and I walked in when I knew you were naked, when I’d seen you, I’d undressed you—dammit, Kate, I knew what was going to happen if I opened that door.’
‘Nick, I was falling apart, and so were you.’ She lifted her hand and cradled his jaw, feeling the muscles clench beneath her palm. ‘You needed me, every bit as much as I needed you. We were on autopilot—we didn’t set out to make love, and if I hadn’t got pregnant, nobody would ever have known.’
‘I would have known. I never forgot, Kate. It haunted me—it still haunts me. And things with Annabel were never quite the same after that. I don’t really know why, if it was because I’d changed, or because she sensed what happened between us that night. Maybe she even knew Jem was mine. I’ll never know. But I knew when I walked through that door how dangerous it was, and I should have stopped myself.’
‘And left me there alone, in that state? How was that right?’ She leant over, closing the gap and touching her lips lightly to his cheek, then rested her head on his shoulder. ‘I needed you, Nick, and you needed me, more than we’d ever needed anyone before. It wasn’t your fault, it was just one of those things—part of being human. And you can’t take all the responsibility for the fact that I got pregnant.’
‘Why not? I know how the system works, Kate, and God knows I’d had enough object lessons in it!’
She eased back so she could look at him. ‘Was Annabel on the Pill?’
‘Yes.’
‘So it wasn’t unreasonable that you didn’t think about contraception, because it wasn’t a normal part of your sex life at the time. Nor was it mine. I didn’t even think about it. James and I had been trying for three years, and we’d finally admitted that there might be something wrong and gone for tests, just a week before. We were still waiting for the results when he died, and maybe I should have told you, but how? Who would have gained?’
He sighed, and his arm around her back tightened a fraction and eased her closer.
‘You’re right,’ he murmured as she rested her head back on his shoulder. ‘It was an impossible decision, a no-win situation. There was no right way to deal with it, we’ve just got to make sure we do it right now. Maybe you’d better give me a script.’
‘You don’t need a script. Just rely on your instincts, Nick.’
‘My instincts are fatally flawed,’ he said drily. ‘If we rely on them, it’s a sure-fire recipe for disaster. And talking of my instincts, before I do anything else I’ll regret, I’m going to take the dog out, and then I’m going to bed.’
She tilted her head and stared up into his eyes, held motionless by the sensual message in their rich chocolate depths, and with a ragged sigh he eased her closer and touched his mouth to hers.
She parted her lips, and he growled low in his throat and took instant advantage, the hot, silken sweep of his tongue plundering her mouth, sliding one hand around the back of her neck and threading his fingers through her hair to steady her as the other hand curled around her bottom and hauled her closer. Her legs parted at the pressure from his knee, and one hard thigh lodged between them, sending need shooting through her, turning her body to fire.
‘Nick,’ she moaned, but the sound of her voice seemed to stop him in his tracks, and he pulled back, lifting his head and staring down at her, his chest rising and falling rapidly. She could see the hammer of his heartbeat in the hollow of his throat, and after an endless moment he got to his feet and walked away, calling the dog.
‘Nick?’
‘Leave it, Kate. For the love of God, just leave it,’ he said rawly, and she heard the door shut behind him, the lights coming on automatically as he walked out of the back door from the utility room into the garden, the dog at his heels.
For an age she sat there, staring after him, her eyes fixed blindly on the closed door, and then with a fractured little sigh she got to her feet, put their glasses in the kitchen and went to bed.
They were supposed to be being grown up about this, she reminded herself, and so far it was only Nick who was sticking to the plot. How long that would last, she had no idea, but as she lay down in her bed, her mind went back to Jem.
How on earth had she forgotten about him? He was lying there in hospital, distressed and heartbroken, and all she could think about was making love with Nick, which was what
had got them all in this mess in the first place!
It was a long, long time before she went to sleep.
* * *
The next day was very hard.
Jem refused to talk to Kate at first, and he refused to let Nick visit. After he’d got over his crying spell the night before, he’d withdrawn into himself, and the only thing he showed any interest in was Lucy’s games console. It took him out of himself, she thought, gave him something to concentrate on, something to hide behind while his subconscious sorted out the wood from the trees.
So she just sat beside him, reading a magazine and waiting, and finally he cracked.
‘Why did you lie to me?’ he asked suddenly, and she put her magazine down and made herself meet his hurt, accusing eyes.
‘I didn’t—well, not really. I tried very hard not to, and I never actually told you that James was your father, because I knew it was a lie, and it was more a case of letting you believe something than telling you something wrong. So when you asked about your father, I told you that if he’d known he had a son, he would have been very proud of you, and that, at least, is true. He is proud of you, and he loves you. He always has.’
‘But you let me think that James was my father. That was a sort of lie.’
It was. A lie of omission, and she nodded. ‘Yes, it was. But it seemed like the best of some not very good choices, and I wanted to do the best I could for everyone. I didn’t really know what else to do without hurting innocent people.’
‘I’m innocent,’ he said, and her eyes filled.
‘I know. I’m sorry. It’s a mess, and it’s my fault, not your father’s. You shouldn’t blame him, he had no say in it.’
‘Where is Uncle N—?’ he asked, and then frowned. ‘Mum, what do I call him now?’ he asked fretfully.
She stroked his hair. ‘I don’t know. You’ll have to ask him that. Whatever feels right. What do you want to call him?’
He shrugged. ‘Dunno. I mean, he’s my dad, isn’t he?’
St. Piran's: The Wedding of The Year Page 14
