Reluctant Date (25 page)

He put out a hand to stop her.
 
“Please don’t go yet Claire.
 
Carl will want to thank you for everything
you’ve done.
 
I don’t even want to think
about what might have happened if you hadn’t been here.”

“If I hadn’t been here then Beth would have called someone
else,” Claire told him, her manner matter-of-fact. She was determined to keep
emotion out of this.
 
She was also
desperate to leave before Daniel met his new nephew.

“Look I have to go.
 
There are things I must do, things that won’t wait.
 
Give Beth my love and tell her I’ll be in
touch later.”

He gave a slow nod.
 
“I’ll do that, but I’ll also come and find you myself later on. There
are things I need to say to you Claire.
 
Things I should have told you when you first arrived in Florida.”

She turned away dismissively and headed for the stairs.
 
There was nothing he could or should have
told her that would influence what she was about to do. Nor was she going to
let him stop her, which was why she had to go now, before she gave herself
away, and before her heart broke entirely when she saw him nursing the baby
nephew who he probably wished was his own son.

* * *

She didn’t give herself time to think when she reached her
apartment either.
 
She just dumped her
belongings inside and called the airport and the local taxi service. Then she
hurried back down the stairs and walked to the office to collect the golf cart
she kept parked outside its main door. She took it without bothering to tell
Scott even though she could see him through the open window.

Although it was still windy the gusts had lost most of their
force. The aftermath of the storm meant it took her longer than usual to drive
to the Marchant’s family home, however, because the streets were strewn with
broken branches and other debris.
 
When
she eventually arrived she went straight round to the rear of the house,
knowing that she was most likely to find Mrs Marchant in the kitchen.
 

As expected, she was standing at the counter preparing a
meal for later in the day.
 
She smiled a
welcome at Claire and asked her if she would like a coffee.

“Thank you, but no,” Claire shook her head decisively. “I
haven’t really come to socialize. I need to talk to Mr Marchant about
something, but before I do I have some news for you. Beth had a little boy this
morning.
 
He is completely beautiful and will
probably look like Carl when his features straighten out and he stops
frowning…”

She stopped abruptly as Mrs Marchant burst into tears.

“I’m sorry,” she said, pushing away a feeling of guilt.
 
“I should have realized it would be a shock
and led up to it a bit more gently.
 
They’re both at home though because the storm meant Beth couldn’t make
it to the maternity unit. If you want to go and see them I’ll stay with Mr
Marchant.”

For a long moment the frail woman in front of her hesitated,
then she gave Claire a grateful smile.
 
“If you really mean it, then thank you. I’ve already plated up some
lunch for him.
 
It’s in the fridge.
 
He usually eats around one-thirty.”

“Don’t worry about him. I’ll make sure he knows where it
is,” Claire chose her words carefully as she directed her gently towards the
doorway.

Mrs Marchant paused on the threshold and then turned and
looked at her.
 
“You probably think I’ve
been a terrible coward over Carl,” she said. “But coward or not, nobody is
going to prevent me from seeing my grandson.”

Then she straightened her shoulders and moved purposefully
across the hallway to the main entrance and went outside. Within moments Claire
heard the roar of a car engine. She gave a grim smile of satisfaction as she
set off in search of Daniel’s father.

* * *

She found him in his study listening to music. When he heard
her enter the room he assumed it was his wife and turned towards her with a
querulous frown on his face.

“Surely it must be lunchtime by now.”

“Mrs Marchant said to tell you that your lunch is on a plate
in the fridge.”

His frown grew fiercer when he heard Claire’s voice.
 
“What do you mean, it’s in the fridge? Why
hasn’t she served it yet?
 
Call her for
me.”

“I can’t.
 
She’s not
here. She’s gone to see your new grandson,” Claire told him.
 
“He was born at four-thirty this morning, in
his home above Carl’s print shop. And if you were a better father and husband
then she would have been there with Beth when she needed her. She would have
been there for his birth, instead of here with you, pandering to your every whim!”

“How dare you!” Gordon Marchant put his hands on the desk
and pushed himself to his feet. His face was red with anger.

“I dare because nobody else will,” Claire told him
coolly.
 
“I dare because I was the one
who saw your grandson enter the world, instead of the grandmother who would
have so loved to be there.
 
I dare
because I know what your cruel words did to Beth, the woman who loves your son,
the woman who has helped him back from the brink without any assistance from
you.”

“If you have quite finished, then I would like you to leave
my house. I don’t take kindly to having my hospitality thrust back in my face.”

“Oh don’t worry, I’m going to leave, and soon, but not until
we’ve talked about every single thing you’ve destroyed, including the family business.”

He sank back in his chair, the fight draining out of him at
her words.
 
“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you have driven Daniel relentlessly without
once giving him any true authority over the business, without even caring if
it’s what he wants to do with his life. You weren’t even prepared to let Carl
help him. Well now you’re about to pay for your intransigence because your
company is in meltdown. The only way out has been for Daniel and Carl to ask
the rest of the directors to remove you from the Board.
  
I don’t know whether they’ve been
successful.
 
I didn’t ask. What I do
know, however, is that even thinking about doing it has almost broken their
hearts.”
 

She steeled herself to ignore the desperation on his face as
she continued. “And as well as destroying your business, you have almost
destroyed your wife.
 
I know you can’t
see her, but surely you can sense how frail she is, how nervous you make her
every time you lose your temper.”

“And it’s the same with the twins.
 
They’re frightened of you too.
 
Melanie has a boyfriend who she loves very
much, but she’s afraid to tell you about him in case you say you don’t think
he’s suitable. She thinks you might throw her out of the house, just like you
did Carl.”

Pausing for breath she leaned forward and rested both hands
on the desk in front of him, noticing, as she did so, how his face had grown
pale, and how his hands were trembling.
 
Refusing to feel sorry for him, she began to speak again.

“When I first met you, I felt sorry for you. Losing your sight
must have been a terrible blow. I knew you were grieving for all the things you
could no longer do. But now I know you, now I can see that you don’t ever
intend to help yourself but prefer to bully everyone around you into doing your
bidding without question…well, I’ve just stopped caring.”

“You’re one of the most selfish people I’ve ever met.
 
You won’t even do something as simple as join
the Talking Books Service…something that was set up by people wanting to help.
Instead you would rather sit around feeling sorry for yourself until someone,
usually your poor wife, has the time to read to you.”

“And you obviously haven’t heard we’ve entered the computer
age either.
 
There is enough technology
out there to bring you back into the world of work if only you could be
bothered to give it a try.
  
Ask
your friend
Tom Cook.
He’s
moved on.
 
Oh, I forgot…you’ve given up
on all your friends too, haven’t you?”

“Enough Claire! What
do
you think you’re doing?” Daniel’s voice was sharp as he came up behind her.
His fingers bit into her shoulders as he swung her round towards him.

“Oh don’t worry, I’ve finished,” she told him, angrily
shrugging him away from her.
 
“I’ve done
what you should have done months ago. I’m going now. I’m sorry about the job
but I can’t do it any longer. Not after this.
 
Find yourself someone who doesn’t care about the fact that your father
is slowly destroying your family Daniel.
 
Find yourself someone who doesn’t care about
you
!”

Chapter Twenty-One

A long spell of summer drizzle had greeted Claire when she
arrived back in England.
 
Unwilling to
talk to anyone about her experiences in Florida, she had fled to her parent’s
house as soon as she landed, knowing they would give her the time she needed
for her heart to heal. That they were concerned about her was very clear but
they didn’t ask questions, trusting instead that she would tell them what she
wanted to in her own good time. She was immeasurably grateful for their
patience, but also ashamed she was prepared to accept their unquestioning
hospitality without giving anything in return.

Now, almost a month later, her interest stirred slightly as
she stood looking out of the kitchen window at the early morning rays of a
watery sun.
 
Maybe she would go out. She
wouldn’t take her camera with her though. Carrying it was still too reminiscent
of the time she had spent at Dolphin Key where, whichever way she looked, there
had always been something new to photograph. Instead she would take a long
beach walk and hope the fresh westerly breeze would clear away the misery that
had been hounding her ever since she returned.

On a good day she was sure she had been right to behave as
she did, but on a bad day she squirmed with embarrassment as she remembered
everything she had said to Mr Marchant. None of it was any of her business and
she should have held her tongue. She only hoped that in the end it had done a
bit of good. If it had then it would have been worth it.
 
Not that she expected to find out any time soon
because she was still ignoring the messages on her cell phone and refusing to
look at her emails.

The only contact she’d had with Dolphin Key since she left
was to send Beth the photos she had taken of the baby. She hadn’t added a
message, or an explanation, because there was nothing she wanted to say.
 
Her behavior would be sufficient explanation
for Beth.
 
She would know just why Claire
had behaved as she did, and would probably condone it.
 
The same couldn’t be said for Daniel though.
She remembered the harsh pressure of his fingers when they gripped her
shoulders and shuddered, even while she allowed herself a bitter smile.
 
At least she had
achieved the outcome she had wanted for herself. Without planning
to, she had found a way to leave Dolphin Key that ensured she would never be
welcomed back. At least now she didn’t need to worry about having to see Daniel
Marchant ever again.

* * *

“Going out darling?” Her mother came into the kitchen clad
in her usual mismatch of drapes and scarves.
 
Today she was wearing a black and white sarong over a scarlet blouse,
and she had tied her hair up with emerald green ribbons.

“I thought I might,” Claire said.
 
“Perhaps the wind will blow the cobwebs
away.”

“Mmm, I suppose so.”
 
Then, noticing the local paper had arrived she seemed to lose interest
in Claire’s dilemma.
 
Whether the group
campaigning about the proposed new supermarket had been successful with their
latest petition appeared to be of much greater interest to her.
 
She carried on flicking through it as Claire
took a few items of food from the larder and threw them into a small backpack.
After adding sun cream and lip salve, she pushed a pair of sunglasses up into
her hair in case the sun decided to come right out instead of playing
hide-and-seek behind the clouds.

“Have a good time,” her mother called as Claire opened the
kitchen door and stepped outside.
 
Then,
as an afterthought, she asked her where she was going.

“Probably as far as the lifeboat station,” Claire told
her.
 
“I need a long walk. I’ve been
cooped up for far too long.”

“Yes, I’m sure dear.
 
Well try to get back for the evening meal won’t you, or I might start
worrying.”

As if,
thought
Claire gloomily as she trudged down towards the beach.
 
She knew how much her parents loved her. It
showed with every question they had refrained from asking since she returned
home. It showed, too, in their casual cosseting, in the fact that her mother
kept cooking her favourite meals, while her father brought home piles of books
from the local library. Books he thought might interest her.
 
She loved and appreciated them for it, but
she knew they wouldn’t worry if she were home late, because they never worried
about where she was.
 
They had always
said they had far too much faith in her common sense to spend energy worrying
about things that might never happen, and it was unlikely that anything had
changed.