AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘Oh, stop pretending to be nice about it,’ she snapped now, suddenly and unbelievably on the brink of tears. ‘We both know my dad couldn’t give a stuff about me.’
To her horror, she only noticed her hands were shaking when Raul took one of them in his own.
‘Do you know my dad’s the only person not happy that we’re back together?’ she said, speaking the words before she could call them back. ‘He’ll want to meet up when he knows you’re out of the picture. Either then or if he runs out of money before our time’s up.’
He didn’t answer, his blue eyes holding hers, sympathy and not a little anger in them.
Raul had got the measure of her dad right from the start.
She jerked her hand out of his grasp, picked up her refilled glass and held it aloft. ‘Happy birthday to me, eh?’
‘Charlotte...’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ she dismissed, putting her glass back down. ‘This isn’t the first of my birthdays he’s missed and I’m sure it won’t be the last.’
Twenty-six birthdays and her dad had only made two of them.
‘Charlotte,’ he repeated, speaking quietly, ‘this isn’t your fault.’
She attempted a smile, now really scared that she would cry. ‘I know.’
At least, it wasn’t her fault she’d been born a woman. She’d always known that if she’d been born with male genitals her father would have wanted to spend more time with her, just as he did with her half-brothers. Deep down she’d always known it, just never acknowledged the painful truth.
She was a mere woman. Disposable.
A waitress arrived at their table with their first course.
Charley stabbed a piece of chorizo with her fork. Before she could pop it in her mouth, more unbidden words spilled out. ‘I’ve never mattered to him. I look back on my childhood and all I can clearly remember is the waiting. I used to get so excited when I knew he was coming over. Half the time he’d be late—at the very least an hour—the other half he wouldn’t turn up at all. When he did bother, he’d always have a great big present for me that cost the earth, then tell my mum he didn’t have the money to buy me a new pair of school shoes.’
She took a breath and another sip of wine, wondering why she was rehashing a tale Raul was already familiar with. But there was one story she’d never shared...
‘I have never spent a single Christmas with him,’ she said, keeping her eyes on her glass of wine, ‘and I only got invited to celebrate one of his birthdays—his fortieth. I was about nine, I think, and Mum and I went together. I remember being really excited about meeting my two half-brothers. Dad had told me all about them. I knew he lived close to them and saw them a lot.’
Now she dared look at Raul. ‘They didn’t know who I was.’
‘I suppose that’s understandable, seeing as they’d never met you.’
‘No—I mean they didn’t know of me. My dad had never told them they had a sister.’
Raul tried to keep his features composed, not to let Charley see the anger her words were provoking in him.
He had little doubt that if her father should walk into the restaurant at that moment he would connect his fist to his face with all the force in his possession. How that man had the nerve to call himself a father...
How Charley had managed to grow up into the warm, compassionate woman she was today stumped him too.
‘Can we go home?’ she asked. ‘I’ve got a headache.’
She did look pale.
He called for the bill and discreetly told the waitress to cancel the cake waiting in the kitchen that was to have been brought out when their meal had finished. Getting to his feet, he felt in his pocket for the square box. He would give Charley her present when they got home, after a relaxing massage and a bottle of champagne. He would spoil her rotten and make this a birthday to remember for all the right reasons.
But first he had to get them home.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE STREETS SURROUNDING the restaurant were gridlocked, the pavements packed with people spilling out of the nearby theatre, Teatro Olympia.
Wedging them comfortably in the stream of the traffic, Raul put the car in neutral and rested his head back.
His chest filled to see Charley gaze out of the passenger window, chewing her little finger, her silent pain pulling at him, making him want to hold her tight and stroke all the heartache away.
‘How much money have you given him over the past few years?’ he asked quietly.
She raised a shoulder but didn’t look at him. ‘I didn’t keep track. A quarter of a million in all, I think.’
