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After filling the kettle she plugged it in and her father said uncomfortably, from just behind her, ‘You don’t have to tell me what’s gone wrong if you don’t want to. And it may seem a silly question, knowing James as well as I do, but has he hurt you? Been unkind?’
‘No.’ Her voice was flat. Her father meant hurt in the physical sense. And yes, that was a silly question because James wasn’t the violent type, except where the passionate depth of his emotions regarding Fiona were concerned.
And was it ‘unkind’ to be unable to love someone? She didn’t somehow think so. He couldn’t help not loving her, loving Fiona instead. Love made you blind to everything, love made the beloved the focus of your entire existence, the rest of the world peopled by cardboard cut-outs, having no real relevance.
As she knew from her own bitter experience.
‘It’s just not working out,’ she offered, to soften the bleak monosyllable. ‘And you really mustn’t worry about it, or me, or let it affect the good relationship you have with James.’
She spooned loose leaves from the caddy into the teapot and lined up two cups and saucers on the work surface, reaching the milk jug from the fridge, her movements smoothly automatic. It was remarkable, really, the adult way she was handling this, she thought objectively. She felt vaguely detached, as if she were watching someone else go through the motions, listening to another woman talk such sound, good sense.
The tea made, poured, Edward took his cup to the table and sat down heavily. Mattie joined him and he asked, ‘Where will you go? What will you do?’
‘The agency will find me enough to do, I can work from anywhere, you know that. And as for where—’ she shrugged her slight shoulders ‘—I’ll let you know when I know myself.’
‘You’ll need help,’ Edward said decisively. ‘Emily and I will be only too glad—’
‘No,’ Mattie said again. She had to stand on her own feet—she needed to if she were to come out of this with her self-respect intact. She had to order her own life, her own future. ‘Financially, I’m fine, as you know. Hopefully, I’ll find somewhere I like to rent fairly soon. I’ll keep in close touch and, as I’ve already told you, you really mustn’t worry about me.’
‘How can I help it?’ Edward grimaced. ‘I admit, I did have a few private doubts about your marriage at first, coming so soon after that Fiona whats-her-name fiasco, and James’ unnecessarily prolonged absence in Spain. But when you came back from that delayed honeymoon I knew everything was OK. James had lost some of those sharp edges of his and I’ve never seen you look so radiant.’
He took her hands across the table and held them tightly. ‘And now you seem set on throwing it all away. Mattie—’ he dragged in a huff of breath ‘—all marriages go through bad patches. The thing is, you stay right with it, you don’t just walk out on something that’s basically good, you work to get it back on track. Why don’t you go back tomorrow, sit down with James and talk? Try to sort out whatever problem you have? I dare say you don’t think much of that idea right now, but will you at least promise to think about it?’
Gently, she extricated her fingers from his fierce grasp. She stood up. He looked so concerned. She really shouldn’t have come here and dumped this on him. ‘I’ll think about it,’ she promised.
If she thought about it for ever, it wouldn’t make a scrap of difference, the circumstances wouldn’t change, but he wouldn’t know that. At least she’d been guarded enough not to blurt out the truth of the situation.
She managed a weary smile. ‘I will think it over, but only if you promise me something in return.’
‘And that is?’
He looked brighter now, a touch of relief in his answering smile. Mattie breathed more easily. She loved her father and hated the thought of worrying him. ‘That you and Emily take off, as planned, tomorrow, and forget my problems. They’ll get sorted, one way or another.’ She managed a small smile. ‘I know you think I’m hopeless when it comes to anything calling for common sense, but, believe me, I’ve changed. Now, when are you due back here?’
‘Next Friday, at the latest.’
‘Then I’ll phone that evening. OK?’
‘Right.’ Edward got to his feet. ‘Time we both got some sleep. And remember your promise—you think long and hard before you do anything drastic.’
Mattie kept her promise. It didn’t do any harm to think about seeing James, sitting down with him and talking things over. But that was as far as it would go. Translating thought into action would be a waste of time. The truth was the truth and nothing could change it.
She fell into a troubled sleep at dawn and woke again when she heard her father and Emily moving around. Six o’clock and the promise of another hot summer day.
Suddenly remembering the look of worried concern on her father’s face the night before, she slithered out of bed and stumbled into the guest room’s en suite. By now Emily would have been told what was happening and she’d be worried, too. She, Mattie, was in danger of wrecking their jaunt to historic York.
It simply wouldn’t do. She was loved by both of them, she knew that, but it didn’t give her the right to heap her problems on their heads.
She showered quickly and towelled her face violently to put some colour in it. In her emotional haste to leave she’d left her make-up behind.
Emotional haste?
Pulling garments out of the holdall, she paused, recalling everything she’d said to James the evening before. Had she overreacted, spoken wildly, because her hormones were all over the place? She’d heard, or read somewhere, that pregnancy could play havoc with a woman’s equilibrium. Certainly, the way she’d acted had been totally out of character.
Thoughtfully, she pulled on a pair of white cotton jeans, tucking a sleeveless, lemon yellow blouse into the waistband. Some of the things she’d said to him made her feel ashamed of herself.
Besides, what had happened had been as much her fault as his. She should never have accepted his proposal in the first place and she certainly shouldn’t have allowed him to use her to slake his desire for sex. Loving him for so long had robbed her of all her common sense, made her believe that one day he would love her too.
Pushing her feet into flat leather sandals, she pinched some more colour into her cheeks, straightened her shoulders and walked through the apartment to the kitchen.
