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Chas reacted automatically, providing one of the large soft handkerchiefs he invariably had to hand out to the models he reduced to tears, and taking her in his arms.
It was sheer luxury to sob weakly against his shoulder as though he were the brother she had never had, and she was forced to smother a small laugh when he exclaimed in avuncular tones, ‘Come on now, no more tears; you should be smiling, not crying.’
‘I am,’ Tara protested, proving it with a rather wobbly and watery grin.
‘Mummy…!’ Accusing blue eyes stared up at her as Mandy rushed into the kitchen and came to a standstill in front of her mother.
‘Why has Uncle Chas got his arms round you?’ she demanded critically, eyeing Chas with disfavour.
‘Mummy was feeling upset and I was kissing her better,’ Chas responded wickedly, deliberately teasing the little girl, raising his eyebrows expressively in Tara’s direction when Mandy frowned.
‘Something tells me I’m not altogether popular in that quarter,’ he murmured under his breath to Tara, when Mandy had retreated. ‘And by the way, who’s this Uncle James I’ve been hearing so much about?’
‘No one,’ Tara lied forcefully, flushing a little as Chas scrutinised her features closely, but to her relief he ventured no comment, simply saying that it was time he left as he was taking Nina out to dinner.
* * *
Armed with Chas’s very generous cheque, Tara spent her lunch hour the following day arranging for the twins and herself to spend a fortnight on the edge of Dartmoor, a venue which she felt offered equal attractions for both the twins; Simon would enjoy the moor and the wild life and Mandy the coast and the sleepy, quaint villages. She had been fortunate enough to be able to rent a small cottage not far from the coast, and even after allowing for all expenses there was still enough money left to equip the twins and herself fully for their holiday.
Shopping would have to wait for another day, she decided firmly as she glanced at her watch and saw how late it was. To make up the time she had spent shopping Tara decided to work later than normal. A phone call to her neighbour elicited a promise to collect the twins from school and keep an eye on them until her return home. Janice had a key for the house, and Tara had no qualms about leaving the twins in her care.
She was a little surprised by Janice’s flustered, almost bemused expression when she knocked on her front door later in the afternoon. Janice was a no-nonsense type, unflappable and possessed of a strong streak of Northern common sense.
‘My, my, you have been playing the dark horse, haven’t you?’ she grinned, rolling her eyes expressively as she led the way into her sitting room. ‘And no wonder! Where on earth did you find him?’ she added, further puzzling Tara. ‘He’s gorgeous enough to make me think twice about my Tom—and that takes some doing, I can tell you!’
Tara was just about to tell Janice she had no idea what she was talking about when movements in the garden caught her eye. Her heart dropped, furious anger mingling with disbelief as she saw the twins playing a bastardised game of football with James—a James, moreover, who appeared perfectly at home in Janice’s minute back garden wearing jeans and an open-necked shirt, his dark hair ruffled by the breeze and his exertions. As she watched Tara saw Mandy clamouring to be picked up, her face alight with pleasure as James swung her heavenwards in muscular dark arms. How dared he! she thought bitterly; how dared he seek to subvert her children’s affections, to alienate them from her by… By doing what? her conscience demanded sardonically. By playing with them? by behaving like the father he actually was?
It didn’t matter; he still had no right, her anguished heart protested—it was wrong, unfair of him to allow the twins to become so fond of him when his appearance in their lives could only be brief. Hadn’t she herself experienced the pain of loving him and losing him? Didn’t she know from experience how much it could hurt? And yet watching him with the twins Tara admitted that her primary overriding emotion was not fear for the twins, but a gut-wrenching envy, especially of little Mandy, held so protectively in his arms. She was being foolish, she chided herself; how could she be immature enough to be jealous of her own child? Surely she couldn’t really want to be in her place. She hated James.
‘You still love him,’ an inner voice told her, ‘more than ever, and that’s why you’re so jealous.’
She stood blindly, watching the trio outside, trying to assimilate what her heart told her was true. She did still love James, had never stopped loving him, if the truth were known. All those years when she had pretended to hate and despise him she had been merely whistling in the dark, forcing herself to feel the emotions convention demanded of her, but they were unreal, dissolving like the fragile fabrications they were when faced with reality.
A terrible ache began somewhere deep inside her. Janice touched her arm, her face concerned, and she made some light remark which seemed to banish her friend’s unease.
Like a sleepwalker she went into the garden, one part of her mind registering with deep pain the defiant expression on Mandy’s face, and the worried one on Simon’s. With absolute recall she remembered how often she had spoken sharply to the twins whenever James’s name was mentioned; how she had stopped them from talking about their visit to the Zoo, and remorse filled her.
Dropping down on one knee, careless of the damp grass and her best suit, she held out her arms to them impulsively.
Simon reached her first, his smile radiant. Mandy held aloof for a couple of seconds, glancing uncertainly at James before running across the lawn to join her twin.
‘Quite a touching sight!’ James’s voice came from somewhere above her, and Tara refused to acknowledge the gibe, although tears stung her eyes. ‘What a pity Saunders isn’t here to witness it. I hear from the twins that he’s an extremely frequent visitor these days; even to the extent of bringing them presents.’
The critical tone of his voice scraped painfully across Tara’s already taut nerves.
‘What are you trying to imply?’ she demanded bitterly, ‘That Chas is trying to buy the twins’ favour with toys?’
‘Hardly,’ came the sardonic retort, ‘they’re far too sensible and astute to be open to bribery.’
His meaning was cynically plain and drove the colour from Tara’s face.
‘Chas doesn’t need to resort to bribery,’ she enunciated with deadly calm, letting her fury swamp the pain his taunt had caused. ‘And I could remind you that you’ve been very generous to the children yourself.’
This time it was her turn to use innuendo, but her sarcasm was lost on her victim. Grimacing slightly, he eyed her with an icily distant scrutiny before saying softly, ‘Unlike your boy-friend, my interest is solely in the children.’ His gaze flicked her like a whip as he added cruelly, ‘I don’t need to resort to bribery to induce a woman to share my bed, and in that regard you’re perfectly safe, my dear Tara.’
‘As I was the summer I was seventeen?’
The bitter, hurt words were out before she could stop them, and in the ear-shattering silence that followed Tara turned cold with dread.
