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‘Always,’ Alison responded loyally and promptly.
But it wasn’t until the afternoon she was due to leave that Meg brought up the subject of the Christmas party.
‘Your friend told me what you’d overheard,’ she said uncomfortably. ‘I know how it must have sounded, but you mustn’t pay any attention to Sandra. She’s been after Guy for years. She’s frantically jealous of you. She probably made it all up.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Campion said quietly, and the look in her eyes made Meg bite her lip and look down at the floor, and for the first time in her life curse her beloved elder brother.
* * *
April was cold and wet. Campion found a small house to rent, not far from Lucy. It was old and tiny, only two downstairs rooms, and a kitchen and two bedrooms, but it had a lovely garden with a small orchard, and already she could see the pram underneath the apple trees while she sat typing beside it.
Mrs Timmins insisted on giving the house what she termed a good ‘going over’ before Campion was allowed to move in.
Lucy’s very superior interior designer was also called in, even though Campion protested at the expense. She had her child and its future to think about now, and she was determined that her baby would have all the security she could give it, both emotional and financial.
‘You want the baby’s room to be just right, don’t you.’ Lucy coaxed, and somehow or other Campion found herself giving way.
Her word processor was installed, and she started work on the sequal to her novel about Lynsey, her anxiety over her baby’s security encouraging her, and yet she found that, far from it being a chore, she was enjoying her task. Her research into the background for the first book had equipped her with enough information to start writing the second without any delay, and she found, as the days passed, that
she was creating for Lynsey and her children an almost idyllic lifestyle, filled with warmth and love…the kind of lifestyle she longed to be able to give her own child. There was only one difference. Lynsey’s first child’s arrival was an event longed for by both parents.
Guy was still in America, so Meg had told her artlessly on one of her visits. Campion was beginning to suspect that Meg was mothering her; certainly never a week went by without her phoning or calling in person and, oddly, Campion discovered that she didn’t resent the other woman’s concern. In fact, it gave her a feeling of warmth…of being almost a part of Guy’s family. It was a feeling she fought against giving in to, warning herself that it would be much more sensible for her to tell Meg that she didn’t want there to be any contact between them, but how could she, when Meg was her sole means of hearing about Guy? And Campion was constantly greedy for news about him, willing Meg to tell her more than the casual snippets she threw into their conversations. Guy was well…Guy was working hard…Guy wasn’t planning to return for some time…
She knew she was only storing up trouble for herself. What would happen when the baby arrived? She could hardly continue the association then.
* * *
May was warm, buds unfurled on the apple trees and Campion succumbed to an unaccustomed feeling of contentment—until she went to London for her check-up.
‘Mmm,’ her specialist had said doubtfully, and ‘mmm,’ again.
‘Is anything wrong?’ Campion asked in panic when she was dressed. She had been so careful, so proud of herself for sticking to his regime, and if she were to lose Guy’s baby now…
‘Well, not exactly. I’ll have to do some further tests.’
‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ Campion demanded anxiously.
‘Nothing’s wrong,’ he assured her. ‘I’m just getting two heartbeats.’
‘Two?’ Campion stared at him. ‘You mean…’
‘I think you’re having twins.’
* * *
‘Twins!’ Lucy shrieked when she told her. ‘My God, you don’t believe in doing things by halves, do you? Of course, they run in the family, don’t they? Meg and her sister Alison—’ She broke off contritely as she saw Campion’s face.
Afterwards, Campion realised that it must have been Lucy who told Meg Drummond, but at the time she had no idea that Meg had found out, let alone that she was in a fever of frustration.
Campion was bound to have girls, Meg’s busy mind reasoned. Two girls…her nieces…she was never going to be allowed to know if Campion continued to refuse to get in touch with Guy. And yet she loved him, Meg was sure. She couldn’t resist talking about him; she stayed near the Drummond house, when it would have made more sense to shun any contact with Guy’s relatives. If she hated him… Well, from what Meg had heard, it seemed she had every reason to do so. What on earth had possessed Guy to leave the girl alone, without putting up any sort of fight?
But, remembering the look on her brother’s face when she last saw him, Meg didn’t pursue that particular thought. Guy hadn’t looked like that for many years, thank God. But how long did he mean to stay away? Guy had never been a good letter writer, and during the brief telephone calls they had received since his departure he had been curt and abrupt, not his normal self at all. Because work on the script wasn’t going well, or because he was missing Campion?
Meg knew that he and his author were renting a house some way outside Hollywood but, knowing her brother, she doubted that he would be joining in the glamorous Californian lifestyle. He was more likely to be working obsessively, smothering any pain he might feel in the sheer volume of work, just as Campion was working away at her new book, hiding away in her latest story when real life seemed unbearable. The latest information, that Guy wasn’t due home for some time, worried Meg. But she couldn’t do everything by herself. She needed someone to help her.
She considered asking Tait, and then discarded the idea; when one got down to basics, men had no imagination. They thought in straight lines, logically and single-mindedly. Women were different, and something definitely had to be done.
* * *
