A Second Chance (41 page)

Charlotte had kept her voice well schooled,
but her convulsive grip on the arm of her chair betrayed agitation.
Sarah stared at her in confusion for a moment before she took her
meaning.

‘Oh! Oh no, Mrs Taylor, you misunderstand
me. I meant nothing of that sort. My dealings with Mr Taylor have
been… there has been no…’ She stopped, furious at herself for the
blush she could feel, and for her inability to find the right
words. She was floundering in unfamiliar waters. ‘I’m sorry for
having given such an impression,’ she went on more collectedly.
‘It’s more a matter of business—though there’s a personal element
as well.’

Charlotte was studying her warily, but her
hands had relaxed. ‘I still fail to see how it concerns me.’

Sarah glanced at Amy’s picture again before
returning her attention to Charlotte. ‘I’m not sure if you’re
aware, Mrs Taylor, that I was not born a Millish. I was adopted
into this family as an infant.’

Charlotte looked puzzled at the apparent
change of subject, but she nodded. ‘Yes, I’d heard that.’

‘Well, some time ago I was fortunate enough
to find my mother—my other mother, I should say. I’ve the great
fortune to have had two.’ She smiled, but Charlotte’s expression
remained distant. ‘When we met after the concert last year, I
referred to Mrs Stewart as my very dear friend. And she most
certainly is. But she’s even more to me than that. She is my
mother.’

‘Oh,’ said Charlotte. ‘I see.’

Sarah took a deep breath before plunging on.
‘But it was more recently that I discovered who my…’ Again, she
found herself briefly lost for words. “Father” was not a word she
was willing to use for Mr Taylor. ‘Who the man involved was.’ She
saw a dawning awareness in Charlotte’s eyes. ‘It was Mr
Taylor.’

She waited for Charlotte’s response, with no
idea what form it might take. Would the woman angrily deny it?
Would she storm out? Might she dissolve into tears?

Charlotte Taylor did none of those things.
She sat as if carved in stone. She seemed to be staring into some
invisible distance, so absorbed in her thoughts that Sarah did not
feel able to interrupt them.

Silence filled the room like a heavy,
muffling blanket. Sarah waited until the absence of sound became
unbearable. ‘This happened before you and Mr Taylor were married,’
she said cautiously. ‘It was before he went to Australia. I believe
I’m the reason he went there, actually.’ Charlotte’s gaze was on
her now, and Sarah saw a deep resentment there.

‘I gather your husband has never spoken of
this to you?’ A barely perceptible twist in Charlotte’s mouth was
the nearest approach she made to an answer. Sarah ploughed on.
‘Believe me, Mrs Taylor, I would rather not have been obliged to
bring this to your attention. I realise it must be somewhat
painful.’

For a moment Charlotte’s guard slipped, and
a wounded creature looked out through her eyes. “Painful”, Sarah
realised, might be an inadequate word. But Charlotte’s mask of
composure was restored so quickly that Sarah almost doubted what
she had seen.

‘Mr Taylor learned of our… connection even
more recently than I did,’ she went on. ‘I don’t know how he came
to discover it��it certainly wasn’t from Mrs Stewart. If having been
responsible for the existence of a child had slipped his mind,
perhaps seeing her again that evening after the concert reminded
him. The very fact that she was staying with me probably
contributed.

‘However it was that he discovered it,
frankly I wish we had both remained in ignorance on the subject.
When he came to see me—yes, he called on me,’ she said, seeing
Charlotte’s expression. ‘I made it plain to him I had no desire for
any closer contact. I hoped that would be an end to the matter.
Unfortunately, he chose to take advantage of the situation.’

Sarah was feeling increasingly uncomfortable
at the one-sided nature of this conversation, but Charlotte showed
no sign of wishing to speak. Sarah might almost have thought her
bored with the whole affair, had it not been for the intensity of
her gaze.

‘Mr Taylor used our supposed relationship to
gain certain financial benefits. To be frank, he took actions that
I regard as fraudulent. After the first such incident came to my
notice, I warned him there would be serious consequences if he did
not desist. I’m afraid that my warning appears to have gone
unheeded—in the most recent event he’s descended into slandering
me—and I now find myself obliged to take action.’

There was no point in going on without some
sign that the woman was following her. Sarah waited, and Charlotte
spoke at last.

‘Does she want him back?’

‘What?’ Sarah said, thrown off balance by
the unexpected response. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t—’

‘Her.’ Charlotte flicked a hand in the
direction of Amy’s photograph. ‘Does she want him back? Is that why
she came to Auckland?’

Sarah fought down the sharp retort that was
her instinctive response to the implied slur on Amy’s character.
She could only guess at how distressing this must be for Charlotte.
‘No, Mrs Taylor, she does not.’ She debated within herself how much
she should reveal, then came to a decision. Charlotte Taylor had
the right to know everything in her husband’s behaviour that was
behind Sarah’s course of action.

‘When Mrs Stewart found herself face to face
with Mr Taylor that evening after the concert,’ Sarah said, ‘he
persuaded her to meet him the next day.’ Charlotte said nothing,
but Sarah saw her eyes widen slightly. ‘I realise it was unwise of
her to agree, but she was taken by surprise. She took care to meet
him in a public place, but even so…’ She found she could not meet
Charlotte’s eyes. ‘Forgive me, Mrs Taylor, I know this is
distasteful. He made certain suggestions to Mrs Stewart. He seems
to have thought that she might want to… to re-establish their
former relations.’

When Sarah made herself look, Charlotte
again resembled a figure carved from marble. It was almost
frightening to observe such rigid self-control grafted over what
must be an inner turmoil. ‘Mrs Stewart was deeply distressed by the
incident,’ Sarah said, unable to keep a tremble out of her voice.
It was not easy to speak of such things. ‘In fact, I suspect she’s
reluctant to return to Auckland for fear of another such encounter.
No, Mrs Taylor, I believe few things would make Mrs Stewart happier
than to know she would never have to see Mr Taylor again.’

‘Then perhaps she and I have something in
common.’ Charlotte’s voice was brittle. ‘Though I suppose that
rather goes without saying.’ She closed her eyes for a moment, then
turned an apparently composed face on Sarah. ‘You spoke of taking
action, Miss Millish. What is it you propose to do?’

It was a relief to move on from such
uncomfortable matters. ‘I propose to ruin your husband, Mrs
Taylor.’

Charlotte did not seem shocked by the
announcement. She gave a nod of understanding.

‘I very much regret the unpleasantness this
will cause you,’ Sarah said, ‘but I’m afraid it’s necessary. I hope
that you can take steps to avoid the wreckage for yourself.’

‘Perhaps,’ Charlotte murmured.

‘I will not permit Mr Taylor to continue in
his present situation. I consider that by his actions he’s
sacrificed a certain measure of freedom. Exactly what happens to
him next depends to some extent on you.’

Charlotte raised her eyebrows a fraction.
‘Indeed? In what way?’

‘I don’t wish to pry into your affairs, but
with the imminent change in your husband’s circumstances, I wonder
if you’ll wish to continue living in Auckland.’

‘And if I don’t?’

‘Then—forgive my frankness—if you decide to
return to Australia, I imagine the choice is yours as to whether or
not Mr Taylor accompanies you.’

‘Yes, it is,’ said Charlotte.

‘If he does not—’

‘If he does not, Miss Millish,’ Charlotte
interrupted, ‘his situation will no longer be any concern of
mine.’

It was something of a relief to have
Charlotte Taylor match Sarah’s own frankness. ‘No, I suppose it
won’t. And if that turns out to be the case, I’ll deal with his
situation myself.’

She knew that Charlotte would have no more
desire for a further meeting than she did herself. ‘Perhaps you’d
be so good as to let Mr Kendall know when you’ve made your
decision. Forgive me, Mrs Taylor, but I require that it be made
promptly.’

‘That won’t be a problem.’ Charlotte rose to
leave. ‘I suppose I ought to thank you.’

‘There’s no need.’

‘No, I rather think there isn’t.’ She
studied Sarah, and gave a small nod. ‘There’s quite a strong
likeness. I’m almost surprised I’ve never noticed it before.’

Sarah smiled, and brushed her fingers across
the frame of Amy’s photograph. ‘Not as much as I might wish.’

Charlotte’s eyes narrowed. ‘I didn’t mean a
likeness to
her
.’

*

Jimmy strolled home from his office in the
late afternoon. He would rather have gone to the club first, but
things might be awkward there. A letter had arrived recently with
the club’s address on the back; he had thrown it into a drawer, but
he suspected it contained further demands for the payment of his
account. And given that he had outstanding debts to some of his
fellow card players there, it would be as well to avoid the place
for the moment.

He was going to have to do something about
those debts. Being obliged to stay away from the club was a serious
inconvenience. There was clearly nothing to be hoped for from Sarah
for the time being; he wished he had not been so careless as to let
slip her name to Ballard that evening. The more he considered the
matter, the more he realised he was going to have to ingratiate
himself with Charlotte. It was not a prospect he relished.

As if that weren’t annoying enough, Henry
had been sending him increasingly pressing messages, insisting that
Jimmy needed to come into his office for some sort of meeting. No
doubt it was to lecture him on the state of his finances. Henry
could be priggish at times.

He let himself in his front door to find the
house barely recognisable. Boxes were piled up in the entrance
hall, along with vast quantities of cotton dust covers, and the
maids were dragging a heavy-looking trunk down the stairs. There
was barely room to move between the staircase and the wall. Jimmy
stood still in shock for a moment, then followed the sound of
Charlotte’s voice through to the drawing room.

She was standing in the middle of the room,
talking to the housekeeper, Mrs Rushton. When she saw Jimmy, she
abruptly dismissed Mrs Rushton, who left the room with barely a
glance in Jimmy’s direction.

‘Charlotte, what in the world is going on?’
Jimmy asked as soon as they were alone.

She closed the door before turning to face
him. ‘I’m going home,’ she said simply.

If Jimmy had not been so aware of his need
to get into Charlotte’s good graces, he might have snapped at her.
Instead he managed a semblance of a smile as he spoke. ‘A holiday’s
a fine idea—I know you’ve been rather down lately—but you might
have given me fair warning! We’ll need to make some arrangements
before you leave.’ Given the amount of baggage she seemed to be
amassing, she must be planning a long holiday; in any case, it
would hardly be worth her while going to Melbourne for anything
less than several months. He would need to be sure he had access to
the necessary funds before he could allow her to be away for so
long.

‘It’s not a holiday. I’m doing what I should
have done years ago. I’m going home for good.’ She fixed him with a
steady gaze while Jimmy struggled to find words.

‘Wh-what are you talking about?’ he managed
at last. ‘You can’t mean it! What’s brought this on?’

She took a few steps towards him. ‘I had a
very enlightening conversation this morning. With your
daughter
.’

A band seemed to be wrapped around his
chest, squeezing it painfully. ‘You spoke to Sarah?’ Her lips
compressed as she heard the name; he saw them whiten. ‘Oh, God, I’m
sorry you had to find out like that. I was going to tell you
myself.’

‘Oh, really? And yet you’ve felt no need in
the twenty years we’ve been married to tell me that you had a
child.’

‘There was no point in upsetting you, when I
had no idea what had even become of it. I’d put all that behind me
by the time I met you. I know it was a foolish thing to have let
happen, but I wasn’t much more than a boy! It meant nothing,
Charlotte.’

‘It meant nothing to you that you had a
child? Is that why it slipped your mind?’ Her eyes were dry, but he
saw that the skin around them was red and swollen, as if she had
done a good deal of crying that day.

Jimmy scrambled for words that might rescue
him from the peril he knew he faced. ‘I didn’t want to hurt you.
Especially when you were so upset about not being able to have a
child of your own.’ That had been a mistake, he realised the moment
he had said it. Her mouth trembled briefly, then set into a thin
line. ‘It was before I even met you! Surely you know that from the
moment we met there’s never been anyone for me but you?’ For a
moment, swayed by his own eloquence, he almost believed what he
said.

‘Don’t take me for a fool, Jimmy. All those
nights you haven’t come home till the early hours? I know perfectly
well you haven’t always been at the club. And when we’ve been out
to the theatre or to concerts, I’ve seen the looks you’ve exchanged
with some of the women who hover about such places.’ He sputtered
an ineffectual attempt at denial, but Charlotte ignored it. ‘I know
such things happen. As long as you were prepared to be discreet, I
was prepared to act as if I hadn’t noticed.’

‘And you were quite right,’ Jimmy said,
reeling from the revelation that Charlotte had been aware of
activities he had thought himself so cautious about. ‘Why upset
yourself over something that didn’t matter? Oh, I’ll admit that
I’ve slipped up once or twice, especially when you weren’t well.
Remember all those times you were ill?’