A Marriage to Remember

by Carole Mortimer

  ‘Damn the record company!’ he cut in forcefully, eyes glittering fiercely as he hunched forward across the table, bringing his face dangerously close to hers. ‘This isn’t about the two of us making a record together, and you know it!’

  ‘Do I?’ She studiously avoided the curious glances of the other people in the coffee shop—a coffee shop that seemed to be rapidly filling up. And Maggi could guess why. News, good or bad, travelled fast in a small community like Lowell. Despite her mockery of Adam’s coming here earlier, she knew he was the reason for this sudden need for coffees and light lunches by the locals.

  ‘Magdalena—’

  ‘Don’t!’ She physically recoiled as he would have put his hand over hers as it rested on the table. ‘I—’

  ‘Would you like to have lunch now?’ Sally stood beside their table, waiting to take their order.

  Adam looked up with a warm smile. ‘Is it all right for us to take up one of your tables just to drink coffee during your busy lunchtime?’

  ‘Of course.’ Sally responded coyly to his warm charm, putting her order book away in her overall pocket. ‘Take your time.’

  ‘As smooth as ever, I see, Adam,’ Maggi remarked dryly once the other woman had left them.

  He shot her a glacial look. ‘It costs nothing to be polite to people, Magdalena,’ he reproved her harshly.

  She gave him a scathing look. ‘I wonder if you would have been as “polite” if it had been a man wanting to take your order?’

  He bit back his own sharp retort with effort, breathing deeply. ‘I’m not going to get into an argument with you, Magdalena,’ he told her. ‘Mainly because I realise that’s exactly what you want me to do.’

  Of course it was what she wanted! She wanted the chance to heap accusations on him because she hadn’t had the opportunity to do so three years ago, wanted to tell him of all the anger she had felt towards him that night he hadn’t come home—the night he had spent in another woman’s arms, the night their marriage had ended for ever… Because she hadn’t said anything to him then, and she hadn’t seen him since that day she had sent him away, and it had been burning inside her unspoken for long enough. Of course she wanted to get into an argument with him!

  ‘I’m not about to waste my breath on lost causes,’ she dismissed coldly, however. ‘And you were always that.’

  ‘I’m your husband!’ he bit out.

  ‘You were never that.’ Her expression was bleak.

  ‘We were married for two years—’

  ‘I was married for two years,’ she corrected him vehemently. ‘You were still Adam Carmichael, stud extraordinaire!’

  His hand gripped her wrist painfully, too strong to be pushed away this time. ‘Don’t start believing all the drivel you’ve read about me—’

  ‘I didn’t need to read about it, Adam, I lived it!’ Her eyes were deeply blue in her vehemence. ‘And would you let go of my arm, Adam?’ She looked down to where he held her. ‘People are staring.’

  ‘I don’t give a damn—’

  ‘About anyone else’s feelings but your own,’ she finished scornfully. ‘But then, you never did. But I do. And I’m the one who has to live here. So if you wouldn’t mind removing your hand?’ She continued to look pointedly to where his fingers still encircled the slenderness of her wrist.

  Instead of releasing her he tightened his grip, his thumb lightly caressing the place where her pulse could be felt racing. ‘I always liked touching you, Magdalena.’ His voice was huskily soft now.

  And she had always liked him to do so, had always, in the past, been ready, melting to his touch.

  She was ashamed to realise today was no different…!

  The memories flooded back with torturous insistence: the two of them naked together, their bodies entwined as they lay in bed, nothing between them then, her hair entwined—deliberately so by Adam—about his neck and chest, his hands touching her, caressing her, in places and ways that no one else had ever done, every part of her crying out with need, with a deep burning that she knew Adam would slowly and pleasurably assuage.

  Oh, God, never to know his kisses again, his caresses. Never to know that total oneness—

  She stood up suddenly, wrenching her arm out of his hand, doing it easily as she caught him unawares. ‘I have to go, Adam,’ she told him breathlessly, her cheeks pale. ‘I didn’t want to be here in the first place. I only came—well, you know why I came.’ She couldn’t even look at him, didn’t dare do so at that moment. She hadn’t broken down for so long—and she refused to now, in front of Adam. ‘I have to go,’ she repeated flatly, turning on her heel and leaving the coffee shop.

  Her car was parked in the square across the road, but it seemed as if it was miles away, her legs feeling like leaden weights. Andrea had said she would continue to have good days and not so good days—and this was definitely not a good one!

  She wasn’t even sure she was going to make it to the car, a film of perspiration breaking out on her brow, dampening her fringe as she struggled to make every difficult step.

  She flinched as she felt the strength of Adam’s arm coming about her waist, fingers tightly gripping her as he held her protectively against his side and they crossed the road together.

  ‘Can you make it?’ Adam looked down at her contorted face. ‘Or do you want me to carry you?’

  Carry her? She would get to her car under her own steam if she had to crawl there on her hands and knees. This man hadn’t been around when she had needed someone to lean on physically, and she wouldn’t let him help her now.

  ‘I can do it,’ she told him between gritted teeth. ‘Let go of me,’ she ordered, relieved that they were on the square at last.

  ‘You’ll fall if I—’

  ‘Believe me, I won’t!’ she assured him, inwardly praying she wouldn’t do exactly that if he released her. To find herself grovelling on the pavement at his feet would be just too much to bear. As it was she was fighting back the tears of frustration; she had never wanted to show weakness of any kind in front of this man ever again.

  Adam studied the dogged determination on her face before slowly releasing her.

  To her everlasting relief she didn’t fall. She swayed a little, and her head still felt slightly dizzy, but she didn’t fall.

  ‘There.’ She smiled up at him triumphantly. ‘I told you I could do it.’

  His expression was still grim. ‘I thought, because you had returned to your career, that you were completely better,’ he rasped.

  Her mouth tightened. ‘Compared with the helplessness of being confined to a wheelchair, this is better!’ To be able to walk again, to drive, do all the things she used to do, if not quite as quickly, was tantamount to a miracle to her.

  ‘But I thought—’

  ‘What did you think, Adam?’ she challenged scornfully. ‘That the doctors had patched me up so that I would be as good as new? That I was the singing, walking Maggi Fennell once again?’ She shook her head, an expression of disgust on her face as she looked up at him. ‘Is that why you finally came back into my life, Adam? Because you thought, with my return to singing, that everything was back as it had once been?’

  ‘I thought your appearance at the music festival meant you were at least physically fit again,’ he conceded slowly.

  ‘And just what did that mean to you, Adam?’ She could feel her strength slowly returning as they stood engaged in this verbal battle of wills, knew that when they parted she would be able to walk the short distance to her car. ‘Did you think it would be as if the last three years had never happened? That if nothing else we could resume singing together—now that I’m physically fit again!’ Her voice rose sharply in her agitation.

  ‘As usual, you’re simplifying things, Magdalena—’

  ‘As usual, you’re prevaricating, Adam!’ she scorned. ‘Adam Carmichael’s unwritten role: never directly answer a question, just in case you incriminate yourself. Well, for the last three years I’ve been working toward
s the fitness I have now. I have no idea what you’ve been doing for that time—and, quite frankly, I have no wish to know,’ she told him quickly as he would have spoken. ‘Your life, and what you do with it, is of no interest to me whatsoever.’

  She had deliberately not thought about him, hadn’t wanted to torture herself with thoughts of who he was with now. But for the last two weeks that hadn’t been as easy; she knew who he was involved with at the moment. Just thinking about him and the beautiful actress together, the beautiful actress with her twin sons, was enough to rip Maggi apart inside.

  No, she didn’t want to know about his life, not if she were to remain sane…!

  ‘Is it of any interest to you what I’ve been doing with my life for those same three years, Adam—’

  ‘No!’ he cut in harshly.

  ‘Why not?’ she derided bitterly. ‘Can’t you bear to hear about—’

  ‘No, I can’t bear to hear!’ He spoke fiercely, a nerve pulsing in his tightly clenched jaw.

  ‘Why is that?’ she taunted. ‘Don’t tell me you have a heart after all, Adam?’ She shook her head. ‘That would take rather a lot of readjusting to!’

  ‘Of course I have a heart, damn it,’ he rasped. ‘I’ve loved you—’

  ‘And left me,’ she finished derisively. ‘No, that’s not quite right,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘You were never truly with me in the first place!’

  He gave a deep sigh and closed his eyes briefly and regretfully. ‘That isn’t true, and you know it. I loved you, lived my life for you. Things only changed between us after the accident—’

  ‘Of course they changed!’ Her voice rose angrily once again. ‘I couldn’t walk!’

  ‘I didn’t mean—’

  ‘I had two broken legs and a broken pelvis,’ she reminded him emotionally. ‘I could no longer be with you, sing with you. Be a proper wife to you!’ She choked over the last words, knowing how easily Adam had found someone else to be in his life who could fulfil all those roles for him.

  And how much, at the time, she had just wanted Adam to hold her…

  It had been difficult, she accepted, during the months spent in hospital until her bones mended, and then the following weeks and months at home, to have anyone so much as get close to her without causing her pain. But it didn’t mean that during all of that time she hadn’t wanted Adam near her, hadn’t ached for his touch and to be able to touch and make love to him in return. How she had yearned for those things, to feel like a woman again in his arms, to shut out all the pain and think only of how much they loved each other, to know that nothing else mattered.

  But Adam had stayed away from her, had been off working a lot of the time. He certainly hadn’t ached to touch her as she had ached for him—had found someone else to assuage any aches of that kind he might have had.

  ‘That isn’t what I meant either, damn it,’ Adam snapped. ‘Stop twisting my words, Magdalena. Things changed after the accident because I couldn’t get near you any more—’

  ‘I was in hospital, Adam, surrounded by doctors and nurses.’

  ‘Once upon a time there could have been a hundred doctors, and the same number of nurses, and it wouldn’t have mattered to us.’ His eyes glittered furiously. ‘I couldn’t get through to you any more, couldn’t reach you. You had shut me out,’ he remembered. ‘Just the sight of me seemed to make you more ill.’

  ‘That isn’t true…’ She frowned at the thought of him feeling that way. Those first few weeks in hospital were mainly a blur to her, filled with pain and loss, utter despair. At times she had almost wished she had died rather than have sustained such horrific injuries. When she had learnt of Adam’s betrayal, she had wanted to die.

  ‘I’m telling you it is,’ he bit out forcefully. ‘I could feel your resentment towards me every time I came to the hospital to see you.’

  ‘Was that any reason for you to—? Resentment?’ she echoed. ‘I never felt resentment towards you, Adam.’ A lot of other emotions, yes: fear of losing him, pain at not being with him, love—a love she hadn’t felt was returned by that time—hate at what she finally knew to be his betrayal of everything she had thought they meant to each other, despair at all they had lost. But resentment? No, she was sure she had never felt that emotion where Adam was concerned. ‘Never,’ she repeated with certainty.

  He watched her with narrowed eyes. ‘Not even for the accident?’ he said slowly.

  She shook her head, her hair, long and silky, swaying around her waist. ‘I never blamed you for the accident. The police said there was nothing you could have done. Those boys in the other car were drunk—there was nothing you could have done to avoid the collision when the driver lost control of his car and crossed the central reservation. I never even considered that the accident could have been your fault,’ she denied firmly.

  ‘But what happened afterwards?’ he rasped.

  What happened afterwards? What did—?

  She turned away, no longer able to look at him, knowing her inner pain would be reflected in her eyes and not wanting Adam to see that. He hadn’t been there at the time to share that pain; he certainly wasn’t going to see it now!

  ‘I have to get back, Adam,’ she told him stiltedly. ‘I told my parents I would only be an hour or so—’

  ‘You’re twenty-six years old, woman, surely not answerable to anyone any more!’ he said contemptuously. ‘We’re in the middle of a conversation that, in my opinion, should have taken place three years ago!’

  ‘You weren’t there to have this conversation with!’ she returned coldly. ‘The oh, so busy Adam Carmichael. You’re right, Adam; I’m not answerable to anyone—least of all you! I—’

  ‘Why haven’t you and Mark ever married?’ he continued determinedly. ‘Is it because, as I suspect, you lost the baby, and any more children are out of the question?’

  If she had felt weak crossing the road minutes ago she now felt as if she might collapse completely. No one, no one ever mentioned the baby any more. She had been five months pregnant at the time of the accident, had just reached that stage in pregnancy when her normal clothes no longer fitted her, had felt the baby’s fluttering movements inside her, had begun to look at nursery furniture, to wander indulgently through baby-clothes shops.

  And then nothing. No more little movements inside her, no more waking up in the middle of the night because she was so excited at the prospect of having Adam’s baby she couldn’t sleep, no more wondering if their child would be a son or a daughter.

  He had been a son, a tiny, perfect little boy, but too small to possibly stand a chance of life when Maggi had gone into premature labour right after the accident that night three years ago. Her internal injuries had meant that in all probability there would never be another baby.

  But no one talked about that any more…!

  Least of all Adam. Adam, who had been with her when their son had died. And who had never really been with her again.

  ‘You’re wrong, Adam.’ Her eyes sparkled as she looked up at him, with a mixture of anger and unshed tears. ‘Mark and I have never married because I’m unfortunately still married to you!’

  She hoped Mark and Andrea would forgive her the lie. At the moment she just wanted to hurt Adam as she had been hurt, time and again. She knew her friendship with Mark was a weapon that could still do that, had known it at the music festival when Adam had come to the hotel.

  ‘But that can all be changed now. Expect to hear from my lawyer, Adam,’ she told him finally. ‘I want a divorce, and I want it now!’ She tamed and walked off, no longer weak, filled with the strength of her hate towards this man.

  ‘When hell freezes over.’ The anger in Adam’s softly spoken reply carried his words across the car park to her.

  Maggi didn’t so much as falter as she strode towards her car. After Adam had ignored her request for a divorce two years ago, she had decided that it wasn’t important anyway, that she didn’t need it. But she wanted it now, wanted to be completely fr
ee of this man. Once and for all.

  Her last view, as she drove out of the car park, was of a gushing middle-aged woman obviously asking him for his autograph…

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ‘MAGGI, love, what’s going on?’

  She looked up, her gaze slightly unfocused on her father where he stood just inside the dining-room. She was sitting slightly back from the table, her guitar on her knees, music spread out on the table-top in front of her.

  As in the past, music was her salvation when she wanted to escape from the here and now. Ever since her conversation in the car park yesterday with Adam, she had wanted to do just that!

  The only thing she had actually done where Adam was concerned was contact her lawyer and tell him to send off a second set of divorce papers. Via the record company if he couldn’t contact Adam in any other way. Hell had frozen over as far as she was concerned!

  She smiled at her father now as she gave him her full attention. ‘It wasn’t that bad, was it? The song,’ she explained as he looked as blank as she had seconds ago.

  He shook his head, no answering smile on his lips. ‘Maggi, have you seen the newspaper this morning?’ He frowned.

  ‘It hadn’t been delivered when I came in here. Perhaps Mamá—’

  ‘I’m not looking for the newspaper, Maggi,’ her father cut in sharply. ‘I know where it is. And, like everyone else, I’m curious as to what is going on.’

  Maggi sat forward as she slowly put her guitar down on the table, her eyes unwavering on the paleness of her father’s face. On closer inspection he looked strained, a grey tinge to his cheeks. The newspaper appeared to be the answer… ‘I haven’t seen it,’ she said slowly.

  ‘Then perhaps you should,’ he told her heavily. ‘I’ll go and get it for you—’

  ‘No, I’ll come through,’ she said abruptly, standing up, running her hands down her denim-clad thighs—hands that suddenly felt damp. She had a terrible feeling…!