Accidental Engagement (18 page)

A new voice broke into the conversation. ‘I think that’s the lady’s decision, don’t you?’

‘Mark!’ Anna was flooded with relief.

But Mark's attention was on Darren. ‘If you want to bully someone, try bullying me.’

Darren turned. Finding himself confronted by six-feet two of icy male, instead of five-foot six of vulnerable female, he visibly shrank. Nevertheless, he had not finished. ‘Stay out of this,’ he said. ‘This is between me and my fiancée.’

‘I don’t think so.’ Mark’s voice was like steel. ‘You see, Anna is
my
fiancée.’

‘Here. Drink this.’ Mark handed Anna a glass of brandy. They were back at the hotel, in Mark’s room, the unpleasant encounter with Darren over.

‘I don’t like spirits,’ she protested.

‘This is medicinal.’ He gave her a conspiratorial smile. ‘So it’s all right that you don’t like it. You’re not supposed to like medicine!’

She smiled back at him, if a little weakly, and took the glass. Her nerves needed something to steady them, and she took a sip of the richly-coloured liquid. There was a burning sensation as it went down her throat and she coughed. But it did what it was supposed to do and she felt her nerves beginning to relax.

‘Why didn’t you phone me?’ he asked.

She put the glass down on the dressing table. ‘There wasn’t time. One minute I was talking to Mrs Vor
onowski, the next minute . . . ’
She shuddered.

‘Mrs Voronowski seems like one of a kind,’ he said.

‘She is.’ Anna smiled, realising he was giving her a chance to regain her confidence. Realising, too, that he did not want to make her talk about her experiences until she was ready to do so. ‘She’s very stern and strict with her pupils, but only because she wants them to achieve the very best standards. Underneath, she’s a warm and loving person. She helped me a lot when my father died.’

‘And Darren?’ he asked, when her pallor disappeared.

She gave a deep sigh.

‘He said he was your fiancé. Is it true?'

‘No.’ She shook her head firmly. ‘We were never engaged. He had just convinced himself that we were.’

‘But the mark of a ring?’ asked Mark.

‘
She could tell it was hurting him to have to talk to her about another man but she realised he needed to know where he stood. Her past was as important to him as it was to her.

‘
She sighed, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. ‘Darren lived in the second floor flat. Mrs Voronowski had the third floor, and we - my father and I - had the first floor. We invited him round for a meal when he first arrived, in a neighbourly way - my father was still alive at the time, and not too ill - and a friendship developed. But
that’s all it was: friendship.

‘
When my father became very ill Darren was a great help. He would do my shopping for me if I gave him a list, so that I could spend more time with my father - that sort of thing. I didn’t realise then that he had an ulterior motive, I thought he was just being kind. As my father became more and more ill I turned to Darren more and more for practical help, and
also for a shoulder to cry on.

‘
I suppose I should have kept my distance. But I never thought he was getting the wrong idea: my thoughts were never about Darren at all, they were all wrapp
ed up in my father.

‘
Then, when my father died, Darren started to behave oddly. He started calling on me at all hours of the day and night. When I told him I didn’t like it he said that he was just looking out for me, making sure I was all right. He said I needed someone to take care of me.

‘I
protested, but he said I didn’t know what was best for me, and
he
did.

‘
I began to become uneasy, but I was living in the same building as he was and it wasn’t easy to avoid him. Then one day he called at my flat with a ring. It was a diamond solitaire, obviously very expensive. I was taken aback. There had never been anything between us but friendship, and it had become an uneasy friendship at that.

‘
I told him I couldn't marry him but he just smiled patronisingly and said that I would be happy about it when I’d had time to take it in. I tried to explain to him that, whilst I was grateful for his help, I didn’t have those kinds of feelings for him.’

She paused.

Mark’s voice was tender. ‘You don’t have to go on.’

‘Yes. I want to.’

He nodded, knowing she needed to clear her system of the past so that she could move into the future.

‘That’s the first time I realised just how dominating he really was,’ she said. ‘When he understood that I wasn’t going to put on the ring he grabbed hold of my hand and forced it onto my finger. “Don’t take it off,” he said. There was something menacing in the way he said it.’

Mark’s mouth tightened. If it was difficult for Anna to say, it was also difficult for him to hear.

‘I didn’t know what to do,’ Anna continued. ‘I was still dazed from my
father’s death and had no one to turn to. Mrs Voronowski had always been very kind to me, but I was afraid of involving her in case Darren turned on her. But in the end the decision was taken for me. I had worn the ring because I was afraid of what he might do if I took it off, but I quickly realised that things could not go on in that way. As soon as he seemed more reasonable I told him again that I couldn’t marry him.’

She closed her eyes. ‘I’ll never forget his tone of voice. He said, “Then I hope you like hospital food.” I wanted to believe that he was joking, but there was something in his eyes . . . That’s why I was so determined not to go to hospital after the crash. I didn’t remember anything about my past, but I remembered that for some reason the idea of hospitals frightened me.’

‘And I thought it was because you didn’t want the doctors to say that your amnesia was faked,’ groaned Mark remorsefully.

Anna squeezed his hand. ‘You weren’t to know.’

‘But I still don’t understand how you ended up at Little Brook,’ said Mark.

Anna sighed.
‘I went through the afternoon in a daze, grateful for the fact that I was only working a short shift that day. I stayed in the workroom, sorting out customer orders, until it was time to go home. But as soon as I reached the flat I knew I couldn't stay.'

‘Darren was there?’

‘No. But I knew he’d be back before long. I threw a few clothes into a suitcase, pushed my music into a bag, grabbed my handbag and left. I didn’t know where to go or what to do, only that I had to get away. I started the car and drove. I stopped at a service station for a meal and then went on again. Night started to fall. I remember it beginning to rain. I turned my wipers on full but even so the rain was making it hard to see. I was going too fast, I didn’t know the road, and I skidded when the car hit a bend . . . Only to wake up at Little Brook with no idea of where, or even who, I was.’

‘Poor darling.’ He took her in his arms and held her. She nestled against him with a deep sigh.

She did not ask him what was going to happen next. She didn’t want to know. Now that he had seen where she lived, what kind of job she had, the kind of life she led, he was bound to realise that she didn’t belong in his world. But the thought of having to part with him was too painful to endure, so she turned her thoughts into more practical channels. ‘Have you booked the hotel for another night?’

‘No. We’re finished here. It’s time we went home.’

She had a sinking feeling. ‘Back to the flat?’

He gave a lopsided smile. ‘Back to Little Brook.’

‘But -’

‘You can’t just leave, Anna. That is, unless you want to?’

‘No,’ she admitted. ‘No, I don’t.’

‘Good. You’re all done in. A few days at Little Brook will set you on your feet, and then . . .’

She nodded gratefully. Little Brook was where she wanted to be. With the people she loved and cared about.

And, most of all, with Mark.

‘I’ll do the packing,’ he said, ‘and then we’ll be on our way.’

‘What are we going to tell Emmy and Claire?’

Anna was feeling fresher now, and as they neared the end of their journey she was thinking of what was to come.

Mark shifted down a gear and negotiated the tricky corner. ‘I don’t like deceiving them,’ he said with a frown.

‘Neither do I. I think we should tell them the truth.’

He nodded. ‘It’s bound to hurt them, but it will hurt them even more if we keep up the pretence.’

‘I agree.’ She hesitated. ‘They may not want me -’

‘They’ll want you,’ he growled.

He turned into the driveway and the car pulled to a halt. They got out, Mark carrying the cases and taking them upstairs.

‘When do you expect them back?’ asked Anna.

‘Not for a few more hours. Why don’t you have a lie down and then I’ll fix your something to eat?’

‘I think I’ll take a shower and wash my hair instead.’

Mark understood instinctively. ‘Washing the past away’

She nodded. ‘A fresh start.’

‘A fresh start for you?’ he asked her as she began to walk upstairs, ‘or for us?’

Anna felt her heart leap. She turned round slowly, wondering whether he
could really be saying what she thought he was saying. But seeing him standing at the bottom of the stairs looking up at her so hopefully she felt
her own hopes rise.

‘I’d meant to wait until you were feeling better before starting this,’ he said, ‘but it’s too important. I can’t wait. I have to know. When you’ve put all this behind you, is there a chance for us?’

She came back down a step. ‘What do you mean?’
she asked, still afraid to hope.
S
till needing to be sure.

‘I mean, do you think you can ever learn to trust me, Anna? Can you forget about the way in which we got to know each other? Are you willing to try again?’

She put one hand on the banister to steady herself. ‘Is that what you want, Mark? After all,
you know who I am now. You know what sort of job I have, the way I live . . . I’m from a different world, remember.’

‘I don’t want your job, Anna, or your home, or your world either, for that matter. I want
you.
’

‘You say you want me, but want me as what?’ She was proceeding cautiously, afraid to hope in case her hopes should be dashed again. ‘Your friend, you lover . . . ?’

His voice was warm and certain. ‘My wife.’

She felt a thrill go through her. But she had been through so much. And so, in his own way, had he. She needed to be sure. ‘You thought you wanted Janine as your wife,’ she reminded him.

‘
Thought
,’ he agreed. ‘After being chased by women who were obviously interested in my wealth it made a welcome change to meet someone who genuinely seemed not to care about the kind of life I led. And for a time I was grateful for that. But even if I hadn’t overheard Janine’s boast that she’d hooked the catch of the season I would have soon realised that she wasn’t for me.’

‘But that’s what I mean,’ said Anna, wanting to melt into his arms but knowing that she had to be certain; that they both did.
‘If you’d had longer you’d have discovered your mistake.’

‘And you think that if I have longer with you I might find that I’ve made another mistake?’ he asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Then stay. Stay with me here at Little Brook. Let’s get to know each other properly. Until there’s no possibility of any mistake.’ He went up the stairs to meet her, until his eyes were on a level with hers.

She put out her hand and ran her fingers through his hair. He turned his head and kissed the palm of her hand. The touch of his mouth made her tremble. The thought of staying with Mark intoxicated her. A chance to get to know him
.
A
chance to let the love she had for him grow and develop. She gave a sigh.

‘Do I take it that’s a yes?’ he asked, capturing her hand in his own and pushing a stray strand of hair lovingly away from her face.

She nodded. ‘Oh, yes, Mark. It’s a definite yes.’

‘Well I never!’ Emmy looked completely dumbfounded as, having returned to Little Brook with Claire, she heard Mark and Anna’s confession. ‘And all because I’d lost my glasses. If I’d had them I would never have mistaken that O for a C. But my dear, I’m so sorry,’ she said, turning to Anna. ‘To think I told you you were engaged to Mark when you weren’t engaged at all.’

‘It’s not your fault,’ Anna hastened to reassure her.

‘But my dear, I never meant to keep you away from y
our home and your family . . . ’

‘It wasn’t you who kept Anna away from those things,’ said Mark, feeling that Emmy’s sweet-natured shouldering of the blame was the worst punishment he could have had for deceiving her, ‘it was me.’

‘It was no-one,’ said Anna firmly. ‘I don’t have a home and a family, at least not since my father died.’ She stopped, not wanting her words to sound like self pity.