E for England (23 page)

‘You won't need to go near him,' said Annie to Leonie. He couldn't tell from her tone if she was annoyed or not. Leonie wasn't the most tactful person he'd met, but selfish people seldom were. ‘Best not to.'

‘We've ordered dinner. James and I will go and collect it in ten minutes. Keep an eye on the rice, we'll put it in when we leave.'

Leonie raised her glass. ‘Here's to a rapid recovery for Mattie and Floss.'

‘Here, here.' Annie said. ‘And
bon voyage
, Leonie.'

‘
Bon voyage
.'

‘What will you do on Monday if Mattie is still sick?' asked Hugh.

‘Take the day off without pay. No choice.' She glanced at Leonie. ‘And that's another reason for moving in with Kevin again.'

‘You're really doing that?' Wine slopped onto Hugh's knee as surprise jolted through him.

‘Annie thinks she has no choice on that either,' said Leonie.

‘But you do!' He put the glass down carefully and went to get a sponge from the kitchen. ‘Don't you?'

‘Like what?' Annie twisted around, glaring at him over the back of the couch. ‘Leonie thinks I should rent a place I can afford, which would be a two bedroom flat miles away from school and work.'

‘Or share with someone,' Leonie put in.

‘That's what I'm planning to do,' Annie shot back. ‘Why is it better to share with a total stranger than their father?'

‘Because he walked out on you before. Who's to say he won't do the same thing again?'

‘Who's to say any share person won't?
You're
leaving. Things happen, circumstances change. People change.'

‘You really think he's changed?' asked Hugh from the kitchen. He dabbed at the wine stain. Lucky it wasn't red. Why was she even considering this? It was madness. He tossed the sponge back on the sink and returned to the couch.

She looked him square in the eye. ‘Yes I do.'

James stood up. ‘We'd better go and collect dinner.'

Leonie sprang up and grabbed her jacket and bag.

‘How much do we owe you?' Hugh asked.

‘Sort it out later. Back soon.'

The door slammed.

‘They're getting on extremely well,' he said.

‘James said they only met last night.'

‘They did. Strange, isn't it? Considering they've both lived here for ages.' He crossed his legs and leaned back. Annie had relaxed a tad but still had an edge to her, as if she wanted to say something but wasn't game, or was sitting on an uncomfortable secret. ‘I didn't think James would be her type. Too young, too enthusiastically positive about life, whereas Leonie's quite cynical.'

She shot him a sideways glance, almost puzzled. ‘You don't seem very fussed about it.'

‘Why should I be? Good luck to them.'

‘Did you see Leonie last night? She went down to say goodbye.'

‘Only briefly. I was on call and had to leave. James said they stayed up talking for hours.'

‘Oh.' To his surprise she burst out laughing. Helpless laughter which doubled her over and made tears run down her cheeks. Rather extreme. Perhaps it was because she was overwrought and tired.

He waited until she stopped then said, ‘Why is that funny?'

‘Umm. Leonie rarely does that. Talks to a man. For hours. In fact I'd say it was unheard of.'

‘And you think that's funny.' He tilted his head, considering. ‘I suppose it is. A bit. James doesn't usually talk too much either when faced with an attractive, available woman. I thought he'd whip her into bed for some mutually agreeable exercise and be relieved when she moved out of the country.'

‘Sounds like Leonie's method. The last thing she wants is to see the guy the next day.'

He nodded. ‘They've been quite domestic. He took the day off work to help her organise her packing and they spent half the morning downstairs calling removalists for quotes.'

Annie picked up her glass and took a sip. Something about the way the life had returned to her body, the unrestrained laughter made him say, ‘You didn't think she was talking to me all that time last night, did you? Or not talking.'

It would explain the initial coolness. Jealousy. His heart flopped and thumped at such a possibility but he covered the flare of hope with a snorting laugh and raised eyebrow. Then he remembered this woman wasn't for him. Too many problems, too many children. Plus the kicker — she didn't want him, not the way he wanted her.

‘I thought it would be unusual for her. I don't know about you.' A tide of pink glowed on her throat. ‘I should put the rice on. Leonie forgot.' She sprang to her feet and was in the kitchen before he could grab her hand.

‘You confuse me, Annie.' Hugh stood as well. He ran his hands through his hair.

‘Why? I think my position is pretty clear.' She adjusted the heat under the boiling water, measured rice into a cup and dumped it in.

‘I think you're more confused than anyone.' That wasn't what he'd meant at all. She confused him the way a teenage boy is confused by the beautiful girl next door but he couldn't tell her that. She tied his hormones in knots while his brain said ‘stay away.'

‘That's what I said! I said my position is clear, not what I need to do about it.' She grabbed a fork and stirred the rice furiously. ‘It's not an easy decision to make.'

‘You're an intelligent, level-headed woman, but you're panicking and running back to a husband and a situation that you know from experience is all wrong.' He couldn't keep the exasperation from his voice. It was ridiculous, why couldn't she see that?

‘It's best for Mattie and Floss.' The fork landed in the sink with a clatter.

‘What about you? When I first met you, you thought the guy may as well be dead. You hated him.'

‘I'm not important. They are. They need stability and the best home I can offer them. They love their father even if I don't. I'll manage. He's different now. I don't hate him anymore, I understand what was wrong with the marriage…' Her voice trailed away into an unconvincingly hopeful silence. She wiped the already clean bench with the sponge.

Hugh lowered his voice. He had to convince her. ‘Annie, believe me; I know what a home is like when parents don't love each other. It's horrible and children know when something's bad. They're not stupid and yours are already sensitive to stress. It can do far more harm than good.'

Still she kept her back turned. ‘I thought you said your father died when you were little.'

‘He did. I was six, but it wasn't a happy marriage. I don't remember much but I do remember lots of yelling, and slamming doors or not speaking to each other for days at a time.'

She stirred the rice again then faced him, soft with sympathy. ‘And then you had a stepfather who hated you. What a miserable childhood, Hugh. Parents owe it to their children to give them as much happiness as they can. Stepparents should try twice as hard.'

Hugh opened his mouth but the words jammed in his throat. His breath came hard in his chest. If he was to tell her, now was the time. Annie was a compassionate and loving woman. She'd understand, or at least forgive.

‘He had a reason for hating me.' Would she hate him too when he told her? Too late now, he'd begun. She was listening, waiting with a sweetly concerned expression.

‘What possible reason could he have for hating a six year old?'

‘He didn't at first. Not that he ever…' He drew a deep breath and launched into the story. ‘Mum married quite soon after Dad died. She and Paul had known each other before, maybe had an ongoing affair. I don't know, it seems likely now. She had two children close together. Emily and Mark.' He clamped his lips hard to prevent the tremble. ‘When I was twelve, Mum and Paul started going out and leaving me to mind them instead of a sitter.'

‘At twelve? That's too young.' She was frowning, already sympathising.

He shrugged. ‘They didn't think so. Mark was five and Emily four.' He sucked in a deep breath. ‘One night they were out and we were all in bed. I was asleep and I thought they both were too but Mark wasn't. He was playing with matches in his room and…' He stopped, ran his tongue over suddenly dry lips.

‘He started a fire?' Annie's fingers pressed against her mouth, eyes wide with horror. He closed his eyes and the memory rushed back, vivid and terrifying.

‘I woke up and the house was full of smoke. I didn't know where I was or what to do. It was a two storey place and we were upstairs. I panicked. I could hear screaming but I couldn't see and the smoke was thick, choking me. I remembered hearing somewhere the thing to do was put something over your nose and mouth, lie on the floor and crawl, so I did that and got out to the hallway and found the stairs. I fell down them and the next thing I knew someone pulled me outside and I could breath. It was the man from next door.'

‘And the children?' Her voice was a whisper.

‘Mark died. Emily survived.'

‘And your stepfather blamed you?'

‘I was in charge of them.' Simple as that. ‘I was responsible.'

‘You were twelve and you were in bed asleep!'

‘I understand now why he blamed me. He had to blame someone. It was too horrible to bear otherwise. He never really accepted me. I was a nuisance right from the start.'

‘And you blame yourself too, don't you?'

‘Twelve is old enough to stop a five year old playing with matches. He'd done it before. I should have checked but I didn't. I was tired and I had to get up early the next morning. I was cross with them, they were mucking around and I yelled at them to get into bed and be quiet and leave me alone.'

She regarded him steadily. ‘Is that why you don't want children?'

He nodded slowly. ‘I can't face the responsibility.'

‘But you take responsibility every day for people's lives.'

‘But I have some control there. I'm trained and I'm good at my job and there's a whole medical and nursing staff to back me up. I like to help people. I want to. Maybe it's a way of compensating for Mark. I don't know.'

Annie's arms slid around his body. She hugged him close, the way she would her children. An instinctive, warm, comforting, motherly embrace. He rested his cheek on her smooth hair, eyes closed, revelling in the scent of her, the feel of her in his arms, her arms around him.

‘What a terrible thing to carry all your life. But it was an accident. A horrendous accident.'

‘Intellectually, as an adult, I know that, but deep down I feel I'm responsible and I can't convince myself I'm not. I doubt I ever will.'

Annie sighed into his chest. This felt perfect, safe, secure. She could stay right here forever with Hugh protecting her from the world. And she protecting him, helping him. What a nightmare he'd been through, and to some extent was still living in. If this was his objection to children surely she could help him through it?

Something hissed on the stove; the rice bubbling over in a messy white foam.

‘Whoops.' She extricated herself reluctantly and grabbed the saucepan, added water, stirred vigorously. ‘What about your mother? Did she blame you as well? You were her son.'

‘My mother collapsed completely when Mark died. She wasn't ever a forceful woman and Paul totally dominated her. He was a bully. She just gave in to him when he said I should be sent to my uncle in Australia so she could concentrate on Emily. It was as far away as I could possibly be.' He added with a bitter twist to his mouth, ‘I remember her saying to me, “It's for the best.” The best for who?'

‘But it
was
better, wasn't it? You were happy with James and his family.'

‘I was, but I would have preferred to live with my mother.'

She said carefully, ‘Did you ever think she may have sent you away even though she really wanted to keep you with her? She must have known how miserable you were and how he couldn't forgive you. That would have been an intolerable situation for everyone. It was the best for you and she did it unselfishly, she did it for you. To protect you from that hatred.'

His whole body radiated disdain. He literally withdrew into himself before her eyes. ‘And you think you're doing the same for your own children? Being unselfish? It's a completely different scenario. My mother wasn't being selfless; she was just too weak to stand up to the bastard. You're not weak, you're strong but you're acting weak. Don't be spineless, Annie.'

‘How did my situation come into this? I didn't mention me, you did.'

‘You've no idea what it's like to have your mother send you away because it'd be easier for everyone not to have you around.' Bitterness turned his eyes hard as stones.

‘No, I don't, but I know what it's like to want do anything for my children's happiness.'

‘How can they possibly be happy if you're not?'

‘I'll see to it that they are.'

‘Christ, Annie!' Hugh raised his arms and dropped them to his sides. ‘You're not defined by your motherhood. There's more to you than your children.'

Rage roared up inside her and she didn't bother trying to stop it. ‘You and Leonie are exactly the same. You both think it's so simple. Being a single parent is bloody hard! I don't want to do it by myself anymore, and why should I just because two single people, both of whom admit they don't want the responsibility of their own children, think they can tell me what I should do? And you were telling me children need their fathers a while ago. Make up your mind. Jeepers, I've had it with both of you!' She snatched up the fork and scooped up a few grains of rice to test. Done. She flicked the gas off and faced him with her arms folded tightly across her chest. ‘Neither of you have offered an alternative solution either.'

‘I said I'd share with you,' he said tightly.