Prodigal Son (Jensen Family #1) (33 page)

Carmen scowled after him as
he left them to retrieve his towel. “You could have put him off.” She snapped
at Helen.

“Why? He obviously wants to
come and he’s right with what he said about swimming in pregnancy.”

“I was hoping I could have a
few hours alone with him.” Carmen hissed “You knew that.”

“You’d better keep your
pregnancy hormones in check when you are talking to me.” Helen replied, “From
the sounds emanating from your bedroom, I’d say it’s time to give it a rest for
a couple of hours.”

Since Paul had had a few
quite words with the local newshounds who insisted in staking out Helen’s
house, they had been able to go about their business relatively unhindered and
their arrival at the swimming pool went unnoticed.

Paul was already in the pool
by the time the ladies and Luke eased
themselves
into
the shallow end. Swimming the length of the pool, he came to his feet by
Helen’s side as Carmen busied herself with tying back her long hair. The water
came to his knees, Helen, on her knees in the water, clutching her son, found
her gaze on a level with his groin and quickly looked up to his face; her gaze
couldn’t fail to notice the ripped abs and hard Pecs on his otherwise slim and
superbly toned body.

“Oh my god,” she thought as
she gasped at the sight of him, he was the epitome of beautiful, his body could
have been carved from marble, it was absolutely flawlessly perfect.

“Are you ok?” He asked as he
sunk to his knees, he had heard her gasp and he knew the reason for it, “Huh,
not such a cold bitch after all.” He thought.

“Water’s cold,” she covered
her confusion.

“It is a little chilly.” He
agreed then wrapped an arm around Carmen’s shoulders as she sank down beside
him “If you two want to have a swim, I’ll take care of Luke.” He offered.

“Oh, I don’t know.” She
hesitated.

“Come on Helen, God, it’s
been years since we have done this. Luke will be perfectly safe with Paul.”

Swimming breaststroke and
chatting amiably, it took some time for either of them to notice that Paul and
Luke were surrounded by women in the shallow end.

“What the hell?” Carmen asked
as she caught sight of Paul, broad grin and all, in the shallow end of the
pool.

“He’s an attractive boy,”
Helen lengthened her reach to keep up with Carmen. “And he has a baby in his
arms,
it’s kind of an irresistible draw.”

“He’s flirting.” Carmen
answered.

“From what I’ve seen so far,
that’s just him, it doesn’t mean anything, please don’t make a scene.” She
pleaded.

“What a cute baby, is he
yours?” A luscious brunette asked, pretending to get Luke’s attention while
edging closer to Paul, her bouncing breasts, barely concealed by two tiny
triangles of material definitely had his attention.

“Er, no.”
He smiled and looked into her eyes, thinking “Wow,
she’s pretty.”

“Oh, so are you just looking
after him?”
Another female voice from one of the seven women
around him.

“Yeah, his Mum’s having a
swim and a few moments to herself.”
The conversation continued, the girls getting bolder until he found he was
completely surrounded by firm young flesh and smiling faces, his natural
charisma took over and he had the girls giggling and blushing as he talked to
them.

“Paul?” Carmen’s voice at
which he started guiltily “Excuse me!” She waded through the water and
surrounding women to his side.

He stood, handing Luke back
to his mother who promptly left the pool. He placed his hand on her swollen
abdomen and announced to the waiting females “This is my baby.” Before swiftly
wrapping an arm around Carmen “And this is the love of my life.” He finished,
his actions alone should have been enough to appease her.

Carmen heard gasps of “Oh”
and “Yuk, she’s so old.” And “What a waste of a decent piece of man, he’s a
granny lover” as he guided her away.

The ensuing argument lasted
for hours when they got home making Paul for the first time, regret his
decision to visit her. From whatever angle he found to apologise from, she
found fault with. He was remarkably calm and accepted her rebuke until she
started in on what a bad mother Monica was and then he lost his temper.

From the living room, Helen
was initially surprised at the low level of the argument, she could clearly
hear Carmen but Paul’s replies were just low mumbles and she was glad that he
seemed to be able to let her friend rant and not rise to the bait. Within
moments of her thinking that she had underestimated Paul, his voice rose to a
roar and she heard every single word as he barked at Carmen exactly what he
thought of her and her opinion of his mother. She heard rapid footsteps on the
stairs and the front door slammed then silence.

“You handled that well.”
Helen remarked as Carmen came into the room.

“Shut up Helen.” Carmen
snapped.

“What did you say to make him
lose his rag?”

“I gave him a few home truths
about his not so perfect mother.” She replied “He just can’t see that she’s
still trying to smother him.” She explained.

“I take it that is a sore
point with him?”

“It doesn’t matter what she does,
what punishment she doles out to him, he takes it without question,
it
makes me sick.”

Paul walked to the nearest
coffee shop, bought a drink and sat in a window seat, chain smoking and trying
to cool his temper. He hated it when she took cheap shots at his mother; he
couldn’t just let them go but was his own worst enemy. Carmen knew that it was
the quickest way to wind him up and she used it to her full advantage, knowing
that it was like lighting the fuse on a bomb. Thinking of Monica, he knew he really
should phone her and let her know he was ok but the thought of having yet
another argument with her so soon after the one with Carmen left a sour taste
in his mouth and he decided to leave it for a few more days.

He hadn’t realised how hungry
he was until he stepped into the house, the smell of a roast dinner permeated
the house and saliva rushed into his mouth and his stomach growled. He peeled
off his coat and sweatshirt, the heat from the oven and the fact that he had
paid the heating bill meant that the heating was on full pelt making the house
tropically hot.

“Hey,” he spoke quietly on
entering the
kitchen,
both women and the boy were
seated at the table, food in front of them.

“You decided to come back
then?” Carmen stated the obvious.

“Yeah”, he hovered in the
doorway, uncertain.

Helen got out of her chair
“Sit down Paul; I kept your dinner warm.”

He slid into the seat next to
Luke’s highchair, the youngster holding out
a gravy
covered hand towards him, opening it to reveal a smashed roast potato before
smushing the same hand against his open mouth making Paul chuckle at the
child’s obvious enjoyment.

“If Luke is anything to go
by, it looks tasty.” He watched as the child started in on a carrot, thanking
Helen as she put the plate in front of him.

“Aren’t you going to
apologise?” Carmen asked.

“It doesn’t seem to make the
slightest bit of difference if I do, you still niggle at it.” He told her.
“This is fantastic.” He addressed Helen.

“You are unbelievable.”
Carmen hissed.

“I think we owe each other an
apology. I shouldn’t have shouted at you or flirted with those girls and you
have to stop taking pot shots at my Mum.”

“That seems reasonable.”
Helen commented, “
you
need to meet each other half
way.”

“I don’t see why I should
make allowances for your Mother.” Carmen persisted.

“Give it a rest Carmen” Paul
sighed “We were both wrong, I’m more than willing to accept responsibility for
my part in it, can we just put this behind us and start again?”

“I suppose.” She conceded.

With the meal finished and Luke
eventually cleaned up from being gravy coloured, Paul offered to tackle the
washing up.
Talking to both the ladies over his shoulder as
he supported Luke on the chair in front of the sink while the youngster
proceeded to soak both of them in his attempts to help.

“I’ll start painting the
upstairs windows if it doesn’t rain tomorrow.” He said
,
he took the small side plate from Luke.

“That’ll be great. I really
do appreciate all your hard work.” Helen replied.

“It’s ok, I enjoy doing it
and you have to admit, the house is warmer with the fresh putty in the panes
and the double glazing” he answered, then “Shit.” As the plate slipped from his
hand and smashed on the floor “Sorry Helen.”

“It’s fine.” Helen jumped to
her feet and grabbed the dustpan and brush “Just keep Luke up on the chair.”

“For God’s sake Paul, cant
you be more careful and watch what you are doing?” Carmen barked at him.

“I didn’t do on purpose.” He
protested.

“We’re on a budget you know,
one that doesn’t cover the cost of replacing dishes.” She snapped.

“I broke one plate.”

“Leave him alone Carmen, he
didn’t actually throw the bloody thing on the floor, it was an accident.” Helen
tipped the shards into the bin “Don’t worry about it Paul.”

“You are such an inconsiderate
piece of shit.” She seethed “You shouldn’t stick up for him.” She told Helen.

“Wind your neck in.” Helen
spat “It’s no big deal and you are making mountains out of molehills.”

Carmen stormed from the room,
slamming the door, leaving a stunned silence behind her.

“I have no idea what just
happened.” Paul broke the silence.

“You have to understand,
she’s overly emotional and hormonal at the moment, she doesn’t mean half of
what she says, just try and tread carefully with her.”

“I don’t know who she is
anymore, she’s a totally different person to the one I fell in love with.”

“Huh. Just you wait until
she’s had the baby.”

“Sounds
ominous.”
He looked at her.

“You’ll see.” She smiled
“Come on, let’s get this finished then you can go and make yet another apology
for something you didn’t do.”

Although the following day
was crisp, there was a weak winter sun which brightened the day and allowed
Paul to make a start on painting the outside window frames. Standing at the top
of the ladder, he shivered as he painted but his concentration soon consumed
him enough to let him forget about the cold. Carmen bought tea and sandwiches
out to him at regular intervals, although neither of them had apologised, they
had made up but things between then were still a little awkward.

The house was situated on a
busy through road and Paul took no notice of the constant traffic noise of car
horns, slamming doors, squeaking brakes, loud stereos and air brakes and so he
was taken completely unaware when a familiar voice called his name making the
cold fingers of dread wrap around his gut. He looked down from his lofty
position to see his mother and Uncle looking up at him expectantly.

“Crap, shit, fuck, bollocks.”
Paul murmured to himself during his decent “Hello Mum” he said, not quite
meeting her gaze as his feet hit terra firma.

“It’s nice to see you are
alive and well.”

Annoyed with himself for
being a coward and not phoning her and irked by her tone, Paul opened his mouth
before engaging his brain “I’m hardly likely to be anything else am I?” he
snapped, then stepped back, his hand covering the cheek that received her slap.

“Do not take that attitude
with me young man,” she hissed “What the hell were you thinking running off in
the middle of the night?”

“I was thinking that home was
the last place I wanted to be.” He replied, his arms folding defensively across
his chest,

“All you’ve done by running
away is provoke the press and further inflame your fathers’ temper. I was in
the process of reasoning with him on your behalf and was winning the battle
when you upped and left, now he’s baying for blood, I don’t know if I will be
able to restrain him when I get you home.”

“Oh, like you’ve done a
stellar job of keeping him off me so far,” he flung his arms wide in
frustration, raking his fingers through his hair and pacing. “And what makes
you think I’m going home?” He turned towards her again, his brows drawn
together in a frown.

Helen looked up from the game
she was playing with her son when she heard raised voices outside to see Paul
pacing and snarling at a dark haired woman who appeared to be holding her own
against him and a tall, equally dark haired man who stood quietly on the
sidelines.

“
Who’s
Paul talking to?” she called to Carmen.

Walking from the kitchen and
through the living room to stand by the window, Carmen watched the exchange
between Paul and his mother, knowing she couldn’t be seen thanks to the heavy
net curtains.