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Renata looked pointedly at her watch. ‘We ought to be getting on our way. Do come along, Alex!’ She didn’t bother with courtesies; she wanted to get away as soon as possible, and made that clear.
Alex obeyed, his expression a little wry. People watched them leave, whispering—no doubt many of them recognised Alex, who was, after all, quite famous.
Renata hadn’t spoken to, let alone kissed her son, Pippa realised, wondering if the boy had been hurt. She found Renata’s indifference to the pain she might inflict baffling. What sort of woman was she? Across the table her eyes met Randal’s; he grimaced silently at her. He had noticed that Renata had ignored their son, too. There wasn’t much Randal ever missed.
He returned his attention to the fresh fruit and croissants he was eating. Johnny had decided on a full English breakfast, which he claimed he ate at school most mornings. Pippa couldn’t even look at his food; it made her feel sick. She was eating fresh figs and Greek yoghurt, then she might eat a slice of toast.
‘This morning, I thought we’d go for a walk around the hotel grounds,’ Randal suggested. ‘Unless you want to do some shopping, Pippa. There’s a large discount shopping centre a few miles away—would you like to go there?’
She shook her head. ‘I’d rather go for a walk.’
Johnny beamed at her. ‘There’s a crazy golf course here; we could have a game.’
‘Why not? I’ve never played any sort of golf, but I don’t mind trying my hand.’
‘You’ll soon learn,’ Johnny paternally assured her. ‘I’ll teach you. I’m quite good, for my age—Alex said so.’
The weather was bright but a little blustery and slightly cool. The walk was very enjoyable and the game of crazy golf had her and Johnny in fits of laughter. Randal played, too, but seemed abstracted.
Johnny won the game and Pippa bought him an ice cream back at the hotel, as a prize. He took it upstairs to the suite with him and ate it watching the inevitable cartoons on the TV in the bedroom.
Pippa and Randal retreated to the sitting room. She curled up in an armchair; he sat down on the couch close by.
‘I talked to the riding stables. They do have some boots and hats for hire,’ Randal said. ‘But no jodhpurs. They said you could wear jeans, though. You’ve got some with you, haven’t you?’
‘Yes, but I’d rather not ride, if you don’t mind. I think it would be good for you to be alone with Johnny, for one thing. For another, I’m not wild about riding horses. And I thought I’d take a siesta this afternoon. I’ve had a very tiring week, one way and another; I need a long rest.’
He nodded soberly. ‘Yes, no doubt it’s been traumatic, but at least it’s all over now, and you know the outcome has been good for you. You’d have been insane to marry Tom; he’s a decent enough guy but he’s as dull as ditchwater and you didn’t love him.’
‘Don’t talk about him!’ she muttered, keeping a wary eye on the door in case Johnny appeared there. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about!’
‘I know you love me,’ he coolly informed her, taking her breath away.
She sat upright, face flushing dark red, then turning white. ‘You know nothing of the kind! Your vanity is mind-blowing. What on earth makes you think I love you? I’ve got more sense.’
He sat down on the arm of her chair, caught her face between his palms and kissed her fiercely. She couldn’t escape or avoid that devouring mouth, and after a moment of writhing indignation she stopped wanting to, her lips qu
ivering under his, her arms going round his neck.
Without lifting his mouth, he whispered, ‘Tell me, Pippa. Tell me you love me. Stop lying to me, and yourself. I love you; you know that. Yesterday I discovered you love me too; you’d never given yourself to me if you didn’t. So, tell me! I need to hear you saying it.’
A single tear rolled down from under her closed lids. She gave a small, pathetic sob, pushing at his powerful chest, trying to make him let go of her.
‘All you ever think about is what you need. What about what I need?’
‘What’s that?’
‘Time,’ she groaned. ‘Time to think. I’m so confused. A week ago I was planning my marriage to Tom. Now here I am, with you. I feel as if I’ve been through an earthquake. The landscape of my life has been torn up; I don’t know where I am, or what I want to do. And you keep pushing me, trying to make me do what you want me to do! Leave me alone, Randal. Give me some time and space to work out how I really feel!’
He studied her, frowning, then dropped a light kiss on her nose. ‘Okay, we’ll talk about it some other time. But you do like Johnny, don’t you? I’ve been watching you with him; I can see you do. I know you said you wanted to be first with anyone you married, not come second after their child—but that was before you got to know Johnny. Do you still feel the same?’
She worried her lower lip, sighing. ‘I don’t know. No, I suppose not. Seeing him with his mother, I felt so sorry for him. I had a loveless childhood, myself—that’s why I badly want to be loved, to come first with the man I marry. I can understand where Johnny’s coming from, though; I’ve been through what he’s going through. And I think it’s worse for him, because he does have a mother who’s alive, but seems quite indifferent to him, whereas I had nobody. I was lonely and neglected but I wasn’t getting hurt the way Johnny is.’
Grimly, Randal said, ‘Renata’s a selfish woman who puts herself first, always has. You see, that’s what happens when a woman demands to come first.’
‘That’s not fair!’ she protested angrily. ‘I never said I’d put myself first if I ever had a child!’
‘No, I believe you wouldn’t, but Renata does, always has. There’s no room in her life for a child. The less Johnny sees of her, the better. He won’t get so badly hurt if he doesn’t see her too often. But I don’t want him blaming me, telling himself I kept her away. I have to let her visit him if she ever feels like it, although I wish I could stop her seeing him.’
