Sally Wentworth - A Typical Male (18 page)

Never in his wildest dreams had
he imagined this happening, especially not with Tasha. He began to think about
what he knew or had heard about fatherhood: nights when you never got any
sleep, smelly nappies, never being able to go out unless everything was planned
weeks in advance. He remembered friends telling him bitterly of wives who
suddenly lost interest in sex once they had a child, who were always too tired
to make love. God, it sounded terrible! He saw his whole world changing, his
freedom lost. He looked ahead, a bleak vision of the future coming into his
mind. But then the vision changed a little and, slowly, his eyes widened and
his gaze became transfixed. Brett let out a long sigh, turned, and began to
stride quickly along the street.

Tasha had put on a CD but it had
stopped playing long since. There were still only the lamps burning, but in a
burst of rage she had flung open the window to get rid of the perfume that
still hung in the air. Sarah had made her promise to call her, to let her know
what had happened, but Tasha made no effort to do so. Her spirits were too low, too devastated for her to gloat with Sarah over the
success of the trick she'd played. She was lying on the settee, leaning back
against its arm, gazing up at the ceiling, wondering how the hell she always
managed to mess up her life. It was men, she decided, without men life would be
a doddle, a breeze. For a few months she had put her trust in a man and life
had been good, but now she was back where she always seemed to be, walking that
long, long corridor on her own, passing doors which this time she would
certainly not even glance at let alone try and open.

She was so deep in her thoughts
that she didn't hear Brett come up the stairs, didn't even realise
he was there until he stood beside her. Tasha's eyes widened, but her voice was
harsh as she said, 'What do you want?'

'To talk.'
Squatting down, he took hold of her hand. 'I didn't walk out on you, if that's
what you're thinking. I just needed some time and space to think. What you told
me came as quite a shock.'

Taking her hand from his, Tasha swung her legs to the ground and
folded her arms tightly across her chest. 'So?'

'So I want to know what you think about this. Whether you've decided
what you want to do.'

'What do you think I ought to do?' she asked suspiciously.

'Well, I don't want to influence you in any way, but I—'

'Rubbish!' Pushing him aside, Tasha got to her feet and turned angrily
to face him as he too rose. 'You've come back to persuade me to have an
abortion.'

'I didn't
say that. What I—'

'You didn't have to say it. The way you ran out of here—it was
pathetic! You're just another man who grabs everything he can get from a woman
and then takes off at the first hint of trouble. Oh, everything was fine when
you finally persuaded me to have sex with you. You couldn't get enough of me
then, could you? How many times a day was it? Or did you lose count? You
certainly—'

Taking a swift step towards her, Brett said, 'Tasha, please stop this.
I know you have a right to feel bitter but I—'

'Yes, I do damn well have the right,' she said angrily, thinking of
her precious notes.

'Look, I'm sorry. I know I should have stayed, but I'm here now. Can't
we talk? And before you say anything else, I want you to know that we'll do
whatever you want in this. If you want to keep the baby, then that's fine by
me.'

Tasha's
eyes widened. 'Do you mean it?'

'Yes.' His voice was firm, but then a rueful look came into Brett's
eyes. 'Though I have absolutely no idea what kind of a father I'll make.'

Tasha looked at him uncertainly, momentarily taken aback, but then an
unwelcome suspicion came into her mind as she remembered that he still needed
to use her material. So, playing for time, waiting for him to give himself
away, she said, 'You would want to play a role in its life, then?'

'Of course.' Brett raised his eyebrows. 'You
weren't expecting me to do anything else, were you?'

'I don't know. I don't know what to expect from you.' Looking at him,
seeing the earnestness in his face, she couldn't believe he was the same man
who had run away from the problem just hours earlier. Full of cynicism, she
said, 'How—big a part do you want to play?' There was irony in her voice
because Tasha didn't believe him. She was now convinced he really was playing a
part, pretending to go along with her until he got what he wanted, when he
would turn round and walk out again.

He gave a small shrug. 'The same as all fathers do, I suppose.'
Crossing to her, he put his hands on her shoulders and looked down into her
face. Smiling, he said, 'I see I have to spell it out to you. Which is understandable,
I know.' His voice firm and earnest, he said, 'Yes, I do think that what's
happened is wonderful, and I very much want to share it with you. I also happen
to think that you are a very incredible woman, and there is no one I could
possibly have chosen that I would rather have for the mother of my child.' His
hands tightened a little and a look of deep tenderness came into his eyes.
'I've said that we will do whatever you want, but I very much hope that we'll
set up home together as we planned.' He paused, then added deliberately, 'I
want you to be happy, I want that more than anything in the world, and I very
much hope that you'll marry me.'

Tasha's amazing eyes widened
incredulously. 'Marry you?'

A rueful look came into his face
at her astonishment. 'That is what I said.'

For a long moment she continued
to stare at him, but then pushed him agitatedly away. 'That—that
isn't necessary.'

'No one said it was. But it's
what I want. I want it very much. And not just because of the
baby, Tasha, but because I love you. I think I always have, from the
moment I saw you dancing at Guy's party. You fascinated me then, and you grow
more fascinating every minute.'

Whatever she had expected it
certainly wasn't this. Her mouth had dropped open and Brett laughed a little as
he bent to gently touch her lips with his.

'Is it so amazing?'

'Yes,' Tasha answered baldly.
She had never expected him to go to these lengths. For a moment she was filled
with doubt; could she possibly be wrong about him? Did he really mean it? But
then she remembered his lies and the article and she grew hopelessly confused
again. 'Marriage isn't an option,' she said shortly.

'Isn't it? Why not?'

'It's old-fashioned. Dated. No one needs to get married nowadays.'

'Not even if they're in love? Not
even if they want to spend the rest of their lives together? Not even if they
have a family?'

'No! That way you don't have
the bother of a divorce when you split up.'

There was amusement in his
eyes and he wasn't taking her seriously. 'What makes you think we might split
up?'

'Everybody splits up, sooner
or later.'

'No, they don't.' He tried to
put his arms round her but she moved away. 'We'll be the exception. We have
everything going for us, Tasha. We're good together.'

'The sex is good, you mean,'
she said mockingly.

'Yes, it is,' Brett said
evenly. 'But just being together is wonderful too. You know I want to be with
you; I asked you to move in with me before. We make a good team.'

'Oh,
really?'

Hearing the bitterness in her
voice, Brett said, 'What is it, Tasha? Are you angry
with me for making you pregnant?'

Her eyes went to his face. 'Perhaps.'

'It takes two, you know,' he
pointed out evenly.

'You're blaming me.'

'It isn't a question of
blame.' Brett said it as though he meant it, although inwardly he felt the
innocent party in all this. 'It's happened. Maybe it was meant to be. I'm
certainly very pleased about it now. I thought that you were too. I hope you
are.' She looked away, wouldn't meet his eyes, so he added, 'I meant what I
said, darling. I do love you. And I know that we'll be happy together.'

'You made me tell you I loved
you; I didn't say it of my own free will.'

'I know that. But I think you
do.'

'Why?' There was a jeering
note in her voice.

Brett frowned, not
understanding, but said, 'You said I was special.'

Ignoring that, Tasha said,
'And I didn't say I'd move in with you.'

Frowning again a little, he
said, 'I thought that had been all agreed before we left Cornwall.'

'No. You said it was what you
wanted; I didn't say I definitely would.'

He didn't agree with her, just
said, 'Well, OK, but it would be the practical thing to do, wouldn't it?'

'And I certainly haven't said
that I'll marry you.'

With a smile, Brett said, 'But
you haven't said that you won't.'

She looked at him, thinking
that this was all wrong, he hadn't been supposed to
react like this. Abruptly, she said, 'I'd like you to go.'

'Without an
answer?'

'You said that I gave you a
shock and you had to go away and think about it. Well, you've given me an equal
shock and now it's my turn to want to think.'

He nodded. 'Fair
enough. But there is one thing I'd like to be sure of, Tasha; you do
intend to keep this baby, don't you?'

Her mouth thinned. 'Why, is
your proposal dependent on my having it?'

'No. I want to marry you
whatever you decide.' He gave a grin, almost as if he was surprised at himself.
'But the idea of fatherhood is growing on me by the minute.'

Tasha flushed and lowered her
eyes, not knowing what to believe, but then she raised her head and said with
irony, 'I promise you, you'll be the first to know.'

'OK.' Coming to her, he kissed
her again. 'You know something; I've an idea I'm extremely happy,' he said, and
added, 'Don't worry, sweetheart. Everything's going to
be fine.'

'Is it?'

'Yes. I'm going to look after
you—both of you. Take care of you for the rest of your life.'

When he'd gone Tasha stood in
the middle of the room, gazing blankly at the door through which he'd left, her thoughts in turmoil. That last thing he'd said,
about him being extremely happy, she just couldn't believe. Brett was a free
agent who was experienced with women, the kind of man who liked his lifestyle,
his freedom to have affairs, to pick and choose. Tasha couldn't imagine him
ever wanting to give that up. And besides, men like that didn't make either
good husbands or fathers; they were always yearning for their lost liberty,
always looking at other women until they finally stopped just looking and
became unfaithful. And from what Tasha had heard they went on being unfaithful
until their wives either divorced them or they became too old to be attractive
to women any more. Usually the former. Tasha had been
on the receiving end of enough propositions from married men to know. Not that
she'd ever accepted any; it was a tacit rule among her friends that they never
went with married men, never did the dirty on another woman.

She got ready for bed, but sat
up against the pillows, still slightly stunned by Brett's proposal. He had
seemed so sincere, as if he really meant it, but she couldn't get out of her
head the possibility that he might be just kidding her along, keeping her sweet
until he'd talked her into letting him use her work for his own gain. But to go to such extraordinary lengths just for that? It
seemed incredible. It occurred to her that she was thinking as if she really
was pregnant, but as she wasn't there was no way that she would even
contemplate marrying him.

She wondered if she would have
been happy if this hadn't been just a trick she'd thought up to get her revenge
on Brett and she really was pregnant. It wasn't something she'd ever really
thought much about. But she wouldn't have minded. It would have given a whole
new meaning and purpose to life. A soft smile curved her mouth. No, she
wouldn't have minded at all.

The phone rang and she picked up
the receiver, expecting it to be Sarah. But it was Brett. He said, 'Hi, I
thought I'd ring to make sure you're OK. Are you?'

'Of course.
It's only an hour since you left,' she pointed out with some irony.

'But I've never left you in
quite these circumstances before. Are you still thinking?'

For a moment she felt a pang of
guilt, though why she should in the circumstances Tasha didn't know. Taking defence in coolness, she said, 'Not really.'

'Ah.' Not pushing it, Brett
said, 'I didn't get round to telling you about my surprise. But I think I'll
save it until the next time I see you. When will that be, do you think?'

'I don't know. I'm busy.'

There was a pause before Brett
said on a puzzled note, 'I don't know what you want from me, Tasha.'

'Maybe I don't want anything.'

'That wasn't how you seemed
early this evening. You seemed pretty pleased to see me again—up until the time
you told me you were pregnant. Then everything seemed suddenly to change.'

'No, it
changed when you walked out.' Even as she said it Tasha was appalled at
herself; she was behaving as if she really was pregnant again.

'I explained
about that. And I apologised. I can't do more,
Tasha.'

She heard the
note of warning in his voice and knew that his pride was in question here. So
she said curtly, 'I don't want to talk any more. I'm tired.'

'Of course. Sleep well, then, my darling. And remember that
I love you.'

Slowly she
replaced the receiver, suddenly wishing with all her heart that this was for
real, that neither of them was playing a deep game of their own. It could have
been so good, so wonderful. But it was all a sham that left a bitter taste in
the mouth, her own pretence now seeming small and petty, as humiliating as
Brett's betrayal.

Switching out
the light, Tasha lay back on the pillows. Only then did she realise
that, having been so sure that Brett would walk out on her, it had never
occurred to her that she would have to tell him that it was all a he, that she
wasn't pregnant at all.