‘I’m sorry about this,’ Vanessa managed. ‘I’m not normally so…so emotional. It’s just that… Well, I may as well tell you. When I was eighteen I was pregnant. I wasn’t married. My…my lover was, though. He was someone I’d met through schoold—older than me. I behaved stupidly, but at eighteen…’ She shrugged. ‘You know how it is, you think you know it all. Of course I’d kept the relationship secret from the parents. Jonas was working in Canada at the time, and when I told him about the baby my lover insisted that I had to have an abortion. I didn’t want to…but I was too scared to confide in my mother. I had no close friends to talk to. It was already arranged that I would go to Cambridge if my A-level grades were good enough. I allowed him to persuade me. Unfortunately something went wrong, and I was very ill.’
Her eyes avoided Sara’s, but it didn’t take much imagination to sense how desperately unhappy she must have been. Sara felt bitterly appalled that any responsible adult could inveigle an adolescent into such a damaging situation. No doubt her lover had been anxious for Vanessa to have an abortion, especially since he was married, no doubt with children by his wife. She felt towards him as she had done towards Wayne Houseley, only in this instance her sick disgust and revulsion was, if anything, even stronger.
‘The parents had to be told, of course. They were marvellous—so supportive and understanding. Jonas came home on holiday and when he found out what had happened…’ She shuddered. ‘He wanted to confront my lover with what he had done, but his father managed to dissuade him by pointing out to him that innocent people would also have to suffer—his wife and two sons. I’ve wished so many times since then that I’d had my child. Sometimes I can’t forgive myself for giving in so weakly. The man concerned means nothing to me now, but a child…’
Sara thought she understood, now, the reason for Vanessa’s shyness and insecurity. It must be incredibly damaging to have your child and your love rejected by your lover.
‘I’ve told Sam about it…’
Deep in thought, Sara took several seconds to register Vanessa’s comment. When she did she said softly, ‘I’m sure he understood how you must have felt, Vanessa.’
Sara knew her brother well enough to know he would be the last person to condemn any woman for something so completely beyond her control.
‘Yes… Yes, he did. I really like him, Sara,’ she added shyly. ‘And Carly… I’ve always wanted a little girl.’
Sensing that Vanessa was trying to gauge whether her relationship with Sam was going to elicit her disapproval, Sara told her firmly, ‘And he really likes you. I’m glad he’s found someone to…to help him to build a new life, Vanessa. It’s what he needs and it’s what Holly would have wanted for him.’
It was only as she said the words that Sara realised how true they were. Holly wouldn’t have wanted her husband and daughter to spend the rest of their lives in mourning for her. Just as Rick wouldn’t have wanted her… Frantically she tried to dismiss her thoughts. She wanted to go on mourning Rick. She needed… Needed?
She was glad of the diversion created by Carly, who came up to ask when she could see the cats.
Lifting the little girl on to her knee, she promised her that they would go and see them just as soon as she had drunk her tea.
CHAPTER FIVE
IT was only when she came to leave that Sara realised the impossibility of bundling one extremely large dog, plus two cats and a small child, into her very small car. Gazing helplessly at Simon’s bulk and Carly’s mutinous face at her suggestion that they leave the dog behind until another day, she was relieved when Vanessa came to her rescue.
‘Look, why don’t I run Simon, the cats and Carly back in my estate car?’ she suggested.
A faint tinge of colour warmed her skin, and Sara guessed sympathetically that she would be glad of the excuse to see Sam again. ‘Fine,’ she thanked her. ‘I’ll follow you in my car.’
Vanessa bit her lip. ‘Oh, I’d forgotten—I’ve got an important message to give Jonas. One of his buyers wants to come and see him tomorrow morning at ten, and I think he had planned to be out. Sara, would you mind staying behind until he comes in? He won’t be long, only about half an hour. It would be a good opportunity for him to show you round the greenhouses as well.’
Sara wanted to refuse, but Vanessa was so sensitive to the least nuance of criticism that if she did so, she might think that Sara didn’t trust her to take care of Carly, or, worse still, that she disapproved of her relationship with Sam.
‘OK, I’ll stay and give Jonas his message,’ she agreed, adding with a faint grimace in Carly’s direction, ‘you might tell Sam, though, that a certain young lady ought to have a bath and an early bedtime tonight.’
‘I’ll tell him,’ Vanessa promised, ushering her charges into her car. Sara was pleased to see that she put Carly in the back, carefully fastening the seat belt around her. At her side, Simon perched regally on the seat, the two cats in their baskets in the back.
As she drove past her, Vanessa rolled down her window, and called cheerfully, ‘Thanks, Sara; Jonas shouldn’t be long.’
* * *
He wasn’t. She had been waiting in the kitchen for less than fifteen minutes when she heard the Land Rover draw up outside.
As he strode into the kitchen, he checked, eyebrows lifting in mute query as he saw her.
‘I couldn’t get Simon and the cats and Carly into my car, so Vanessa has run them back,’ she told him curtly. ‘Vanessa asked me to stay behind to give you a message.’
‘Can it wait until I’ve had a shower?’ he asked, grimacing faintly. ‘I’m filthy.’
He didn’t look it, but as he turned round she saw the patches of sweat down the back of his shirt, and she saw there were smears of mud on his arms, below his rolled up sleeves.
‘I’ve spent most of the afternoon digging out what we hope is going to be a breeding pond for koi carp. It’s a side-line I’m thinking of going into in a small way.’ He flexed his back and grimaced again. ‘God, I’m going to be stiff tomorrow!’
He tensed his torso exploratively and then relaxed it. Sara had been watching him out of the corner of her eye, and she felt the alien heat prickle over her skin, her muscles locking against the treacherous sensation.
Jonas was watching her, his eyes narrowing in mocking comprehension as he drawled flippantly, ‘I don’t suppose there’s any point in inviting you to come up and scrub my back, is there?’