Past Loving

by Penny Jordan

  Holly tensed and then turned round. She had been working in the garden all morning and hadn’t heard a car arrive, and the shock of hearing Candice’s transatlantic accent had sent her whole body into a rigour of tension.

  Now she moved deliberately, firmly digging the fork into the soil before she looked up into the face of her visitor, willing herself to appear calm and natural as she forced her tense face into a smile.

  ‘How old is it, by the way?’ Candice asked her as Holly joined her on the path.

  ‘Fourteenth century,’ Holly told her, trying to soften the curtness of her voice. It wasn’t Candice’s fault that Robert wanted her...loved her.

  She was conscious of the sharp look Candice was giving her, her body tensing as the other woman said quietly, ‘Look, if I’ve come at a bad time...’

  She really must stop this, must get a grip on herself before Candice guessed.

  Holly shook her head.

  ‘No, no, of course you haven’t. I was just about to stop anyway and have a cup of coffee.’

  She moved off down the path, careful not to get too close to Candice with her muddy boots and jeans, opened the kitchen door, and ushered her inside before removing her wellingtons in the porch.

  ‘Say, this kitchen is wonderful,’ she heard Candice saying as she walked through to join her.

  ‘It reminds me a little of my grandparents’ place in New York State. It’s kind of homey and welcoming, if you know what I mean. Whenever I get a little city sickness coming over me, I hightail it out of New York and go stay with them for a time.’

  Holly washed her hands and then started making the coffee, taking some fresh beans from the sealed jar and putting them in the grinder. The noise it made rendered conversation impossible, but she couldn’t keep it going forever, she recognised guiltily.

  She had no idea why on earth Candice had come to see her, but her stomach was churning frantically, and, although from her demeanour it seemed impossible that the other woman was here to challenge her about her behaviour with Robert, Holly was still sickly conscious of her own burden of guilt.

  Her hands were still shaking a little ten minutes later when she poured the coffee.

  If she was aware of Holly’s agitation Candice wasn’t showing it. She picked up her coffee-mug, wrapping her elegant, manicured fingers around it, exclaiming, ‘This smells real good!’

  She took a sip, savouring it, and then put down her mug.

  ‘I guess you already know what I’m here to talk about,’ she said quietly.

  Holly’s heart leapt against her chest wall. She sat down clumsily, colour sweeping her face from her forehead to her jaw.

  ‘I’ve known Robert for a long time,’ Candice continued evenly. ‘I guess you could say I must be about the first real friend he made in New York. Then I was new to the city myself, a bit young and raw, and he was a man totally outside my experience and I guess you could say that I fell a little in love with him right there and then.’

  Holly felt sick. Please God, don’t let this be happening, she prayed frantically, but it was and there was nothing she could do to stop it, nothing at all.

  ‘I...I’m not sure what all this has to do with me,’ Holly said thickly, her throat almost choked with guilt and despair.

  Had Candice guessed? Has she somehow betrayed the truth?

  There was a brief silence and when Holly could bring herself to look across the table at her unexpected guest she discovered that Candice was looking back at her gravely.

  ‘One night Robert took me to a party—or rather I took him,’ Candice corrected herself, ignoring Holly’s outburst. ‘It was in a loft...an artist friend of mine. There wasn’t much food, but plenty to drink. It was the first and the only time I’ve ever seen Robert drunk.

  ‘I took him home with me to my apartment...’ She paused, while Holly tensed, every nerve-ending in her body screaming denial of what she knew she was about to hear. No matter how much she might deserve it, she could not endure this kind of torture. She could not endure hearing the story of Candice’s relationship with Robert...she could not endure knowing the reality of their relationship, their love-affair.

  ‘We started talking,’ Candice paused, her mouth twisting wryly. ‘I pretty soon learned just how hopeless my case was when Robert started to tell me about a girl he’d left behind him in England...a girl he plainly still loved. Once he had started talking about her, it seemed that he couldn’t stop. I heard all about her—her beauty, her intelligence...all about how badly he’d treated her and how much he regretted it, and I knew then even before Robert himself said the words that he’d go on loving her for the rest of his life.

  ‘I was lucky. I was young enough and tough enough to find someone else to love. Robert wasn’t so lucky...

  ‘I asked Robert why, if he loved her so much, he didn’t go back to her. He told me that it was too late and that he’d hurt her too badly...that she’d never forgive him and that he didn’t deserve either her forgiveness or her love.

  ‘Six months ago, when he told me he was coming back to England, I asked him if he still loved her...that girl. He said yes. I asked him what, if anything, he intended to do about it. He said he’d reached a point in his life where he had to make one last attempt to reach out to her...to tell her how he felt and to see if there was any chance that they could start again, and that if the answer was no, then he knew that he would have to accept that he must spend the rest of his life alone because he would never love anyone else, and he was not going to ask another woman to accept a very poor second best.

  ‘I’d stopped loving him as a man years ago, but I still love him as a friend...and it’s as his friend that I’m here today, Holly, to ask you as another woman why, when it’s so patently obvious how the two of you feel about one another, you’re still apart.’

  Holly couldn’t help it. She burst into tears.

  Instantly Candice took hold of her, holding her much as her own mother might have done, while Holly protested tearfully that she was muddy and dirty and that she would ruin the expensive cream cashmere outfit that Candice was wearing, and yet totally unable to draw away from her, to deny herself the wholly female pleasure of sharing her emotions with another woman and knowing that they would be instantly and unquestioningly understood.

  ‘So I was right!’ Candice exclaimed triumphantly when Holly finally drew away from her and blew her nose. ‘I knew the moment I saw you the other night that you loved him, while poor Robert...well, he could hardly drag his attention away from you all night. So then why, why are the two of you still apart?’

  Holly shook her head.

  ‘I thought he didn’t love me. When he left me he told me that I’d never mattered to him, that he’d never really loved me, that it was only physical...that it was only sex. I tried to get over him, to put him out of my heart. I told myself it was because of the pain he’d caused me that I was so wary with other men, refusing to admit that it was because I still loved him...because they could never touch my heart, my emotions the way he had done. I had the business, my home... I told myself that I was content, and then he came back, and I knew almost instantly that I still loved him...

  ‘I thought that you and he were lovers,’ Holly told Candice shakily. ‘I felt so guilty about that, especially—’ She stopped, her face flaming.

  Candice was watching her, but tactfully said nothing, other than a firm, ‘Never. And in fact I happen to know that there hasn’t been anyone else for Robert. Not that scores of women haven’t tried. He’s an extremely attractive man...the kind of man who in New York...’ She gave a faint shrug and then said quietly, ‘He’s a man of honour, Holly...a man whose love is far, far stronger than any mere physical sexual appetite.’

  Holly’s face flushed again as she remembered how in her heart she had accused Robert of merely wanting her for sex...of using her to satiate his physical desire. How wrong she had been. How unfairly she had judged him.

  ‘But if, as you say, he loves m
e, why did he never say anything? Why did he never get in touch with me? Why?’

  ‘Aren’t those questions you should ask him, and not me?’ Candice asked her drily. ‘I’ve done my bit, played my part as fairy godmother. Honestly, when I saw the two of you at that dinner party, I could have knocked your heads together. It was so glaringly obvious how you felt about one another. Every time you so much as looked at each other, the whole room virtually vibrated with the sexual tension between you. You do love him, don’t you, Holly?’

  What was the point in denying it?

  Holly nodded her head.

  ‘Yes. Always and forever...’

  Candice gave her a satisfied smile and then said, ‘Well, why don’t you tell him that?’

  ‘Me, tell him?’ Holly stared at her, her eyes rounding. What if Candice was wrong? What if Robert didn’t give a damn about her after all? She could just imagine the scene...her pouring her heart out to him, laying her love at his feet...his shocked distaste, his embarrassment...his rejection.

  ‘Why not?’ Candice asked evenly. ‘Believe me, in your shoes I wouldn’t even hesitate.’

  She glanced at her watch.

  ‘Look, I’ve got to go. I’ve got a dinner date. No, not with Robert,’ she said, grinning a little. ‘As far as I know, he’s spending the evening quietly on his own—no doubt daydreaming about the woman he loves. No, my date for the evening is your brother... Now, tell me, Holly, one woman to another... How do you rate my chances of persuading him that his freedom isn’t such a wonderful thing after all? Come to that, how do you feel about having an American sister-in-law?’

  After she got her breath back, Holly laughed.

  ‘If that sister-in-law is going to be you, I think it’s a great idea,’ she told her, and added, ‘Try reminding Paul that he’s not getting any younger and that if I marry first I’ll be providing the company with a clutch of potential new executives, while all he’ll be doing is playing bachelor uncle.’

  Holly walked with Candice to her car. They exchanged brief hugs and as she released her Candice said quietly to Holly, ‘Go to him, Holly. Every word I’ve told you is the truth. Perhaps in fairy-tales it’s always the man who makes the moves, while the woman waits demurely for him to do so, but men aren’t gods, they’re only human. Sometimes they suffer from all the doubts, all the fears, all the dreads that we women experience. Sometimes they too need the comfort of knowing that they’re wanted... chosen.’

  An hour later, as she stared out of her bedroom window, Holly tried to remind herself of everything that Candice had said, but her courage was quickly draining away. What if Candice was wrong? What if she had misunderstood? What if...?

  But what if Robert did love her? What if, when he had made love to her, it had been because of that love, a love which she had not even allowed him time to express, so desperate was her need to maintain her own pride?

  Before she could change her mind, she snatched up her jacket and hurried downstairs and out to the car.

  It was still light when she reached the cottage, no lights in evidence inside it, no sign outside of Robert’s car. Cravenly she told herself that he must have gone out, but nevertheless she made herself approach the door and lift the knocker.

  She waited two and then three minutes before finally accepting that the house was empty. She had just turned away and was about to walk back down the steps when the door suddenly opened and Robert was standing there.

  It was obvious that he had just got out of the bath or shower. He had pulled on a towelling robe but she could see the beads of moisture streaming down his bare legs.

  ‘Holly?’ The incredulity in his voice made her stomach churn. She longed to simply close her eyes and disappear. What on earth was she doing here? she wondered in angry despair. She had been a fool to ever have listened to Candice, to ever have believed...

  ‘I...’

  ‘Look, you’d better come in,’ Robert was saying, and before she could stop him he came towards her as though he was going to physically propel her inside if she tried to walk away.

  Shakily she followed him inside.

  ‘I was just having a shower,’ he told her unnecessarily. ‘I’ve been trying to dig over the vegetable patch. I had a couple of men in the other week clearing the worst of the rubbish from it. It’s a long time since I’ve done any digging, and my shoulders feel as though they’re on fire.’

  He grimaced a little, flexing his muscles as he spoke, his conversation so mundane and ordinary that Holly found that she was able to relax.

  ‘Look, if you can hang on for ten minutes or so, I’ll go back upstairs and get dried and dressed and then—’

  ‘No.’ Holly knew that if she had to wait downstairs for two minutes, never mind ten, she would lose her courage and leave. ‘No, I have to talk to you now,’ she told him desperately, watching the way he frowned and then dragging her gaze from his face and unwittingly focusing it on the bare V of damp flesh exposed by his carelessly fastened robe.

  The effect of that was even more disturbing than looking at his face had been. She felt weak and light-headed with the enormity of what she was contemplating doing, her stomach still churning with the powerful effect of a cement-mixer.

  Initially she had planned to ask him delicately if it was true that he still cared for her, but suddenly she knew that she could not do that...that she could not ask him a question which she suspected he would immediately reject.

  He must have become aware of her tension, because he suddenly said quietly and anxiously, ‘Holly, what is it? What’s wrong? Is it Paul...has something happened?’

  Immediately she shook her head.

  ‘No, no it’s not Paul.’ She took a deep breath and before she knew what she was doing she heard herself saying urgently, ‘Robert, I...I love you. I’ve always loved you and I always will love you and when...when we made love...it wasn’t because I wanted to forget you, nor was it because I wanted to be free to love someone else...I—there’s never been anyone else for me like that...no other man, no other lover. I...I just couldn’t. Not when—’ She swallowed, her voice trailing away, her skin on fire as she suddenly realised what she was saying, what she was doing.

  When she looked up into Robert’s face it was like a mask. She started to tremble violently, knowing sickly that Candice had been wrong, that the whole thing had been a dreadful mistake, that Robert didn’t love her after all. He looked like a man who had been turned to stone...and no wonder. She must have embarrassed him hideously. He must have no idea of what on earth he could say to her.

  She made a small sound somewhere between a gulp and a sob and spun round on her heel, heading desperately for the door, but Robert reached it before her, barring her way, causing her to run full tilt into him.

  As his arms closed around her, his fingers bit into her skin as he shook her, demanding rawly, ‘Just what the hell are you trying to do to me? You tell me you love me and then you try to walk away from me. My God, Holly, just how much torment do you think I can stand? Is it true?’ he demanded roughly. ‘Can it really be true, or am I dreaming? How can you love me after what I did to you, after the way I treated you...hurt you?’

  He was groaning the words against her mouth, in between kisses that made her lips tremble and then part, so that the sounds of his words were lost as she twisted her arms around his neck and buried her fingers in his hair, clinging unashamedly to him.

  ‘Holly, Holly...I can’t believe any of this is happening. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Is it really true...or am I just imagining it? You love me? I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you. When... what...?’ He kissed her again as she made a small impatient sound deep in her throat, holding her against him so that her clothes grew damp from the intimate contact with his body.

  ‘I can’t believe this is happening,’ Robert repeated, whispering the words against her mouth as his hands moulded her body. Against her ear he groaned, ‘I’ve got to go upstairs and get dressed. We need to talk a
nd if I stay here with you like this...’

  He didn’t need to say any more. She could feel the arousal of his body and knew that her own was already reacting to it and, much as she longed to make love with him, there were things that had to be said, explanations to be given.

  As he slowly released her, Robert groaned again.

  ‘I can’t bear to let you out of my sight in case you disappear... Come upstairs with me. I’ll get dressed in the bathroom. But at least I’ll be able to talk to you.’

  Holly made to move away from him, but he wouldn’t let her, keeping hold of her as they walked upstairs together. The bathroom door was open, the air smelling of warmth and soap.

  As he disappeared inside it, a betraying ache seized her lower body. She closed her eyes and then immediately opened them again as she was tormented by mental images of his naked body.

  She shivered as she stood outside the bathroom, trying not to listen to the sounds of him drying himself and then starting to get dressed, trying desperately not to visualise his naked body.

  ‘Holly, are you still there?’ Robert demanded from behind the half-closed door. She nodded her head, and then froze as the door was flung open and she saw the look of panic and despair on his face.

  With a small sob she ran to him. He dropped the shirt he was holding and wrapped his arms around her, whispering against her hair, ‘I thought you’d gone. Oh, God, Holly, I can’t bear this...can’t bear being without you. Not now...’

  He kissed her again. Her hands were pressed flat against his chest, her body aching with the torment of being so close to him. Both of them knew what was going to happen, and when he picked her up and carried her into his bedroom Holly reached out and touched his face with trembling fingers, as anxious to reassure herself that he was real as he was her.

  They made love fiercely and quickly, and then lay together in the moist heat of the rumpled bed, Holly still trembling in the aftermath of their passion.

  ‘I’ve thought of you like this so often,’ Robert told her. ‘Wanted you like this...ached for you like this. I should never have left you, Holly...never.’