‘No! We’re getting married to provide N
icky with a proper family, not a father who lives in a separate flat with visiting rights doled out sparingly by you. If you don’t want to live in the flat then we’ll find a house.’
‘Then couldn’t we put off the wedding until we do?’
Her mouth had gone dry, her eyes sliding away from Kieron’s as she prayed that he would agree, but he did not.
‘No way,’ he told her softly. ‘In three days’ time we’re getting married, even if I have to carry you to the altar. It’s all arranged. I’ve even got the licence.’ He pushed back the cuff of his jacket. ‘I’ve got to go to the office. Mrs Johnson will be back soon and she’s got strict instructions not to let you set a foot out of bed.’
* * *
Mrs Johnson proved to be a motherly, very capable woman in her late thirties who carried out Kieron’s instructions to the letter. Nicky was allowed into his mother’s room at lunch-time to share her lunch tray as a special treat, and he chattered blithely to Briony while she picked at her chicken salad.
‘I’m going to have a daddy soon,’ he told her importantly, ‘and we’re going to go and live with him in a new house.’
Kieron hadn’t wasted much time in informing his son of the changes to come, Briony reflected bitterly. Couldn’t he have left that to her? Or didn’t he trust her to do it without prejudicing Nicky against him? Resentment washed over her. She wanted only what was best for her child, and she could never do anything which might affect him adversely.
Nicky had been so used to having her all to himself, she wasn’t sure how he would react to a third member of their small family. It wasn’t unknown for small boys to resent a male intruder into their mother’s life, but of course their circumstances were not such that Nicky would have to witness any unaccustomed intimacy between herself and Kieron. For the first time she was curious about Kieron’s feelings about their marriage. Marriage to her precluded him from having the things a man normally looked for in marriage. Did he think Nicky would compensate for what he was missing, or was it that he was cynically thinking that in view of their shared animosity he could continue to live the life of a bachelor where women were concerned? She was shocked by the intensity of her anger. What did it matter to her what Kieron did with his life?
At teatime she felt well enough to get up, but Mrs Johnson was adamant that she should not. She had made Nicky bread and butter soldiers to eat with his egg, and Nicky was dipping these enthusiastically into the yoke when Briony pushed open the kitchen door.
‘Mr Blake told me that you were not to get up on any account,’ she protested.
‘Mr Blake doesn’t give the orders round here,’ Briony replied tartly. Her hair felt untidy and tacky and she wanted to wash it. Besides, lying in bed gave her too much time to think.
When Nicky had finished his tea, she thanked Mrs Johnson for her help and firmly dismissed her. Nicky chattered happily while she bathed him, and they played all his favourite games. It was amazing how much more he seemed to learn every day, Briony thought fondly, listening to him telling her all about his day.
‘When will my daddy be coming?’ he demanded suddenly.
Kieron had not said when he would return. He had told her next to nothing about the arrangements for the wedding. If he did not ring her tomorrow she would have to phone him, Briony decided unwillingly. Nicky was staring up at her uncertainly and she took a deep breath, telling herself that she must start preparing her son for the changes to come.
‘I don’t know when exactly,’ she began carefully. ‘Soon, probably.’
‘And then we’ll be going to live with him for ever?’
‘I expect so.’ She lifted him out of the bath, briskly towelling his squirming, solid little body, and tickling him playfully.
‘Won’t we be living here any more?’ he asked her suddenly, his forehead puckering. ‘Will we be going away like Gina?’
‘Perhaps. Now come on. Which story shall we read tonight?’ she asked him.
She tucked him up in bed with one of his books while she went to wash her own hair and shower, towelling her thick curls briskly before pulling on a thin robe and padding back to his bedroom.
She had just reached the end of the story when the bedroom door opened and Kieron walked in, pulling off his jacket which he flung across the bed, loosening his tie, the oddly intimate gesture tightening her throat with tension.
Kieron smiled briefly at Nicky, who was watching him round-eyed and uncertain. Briony closed the book, not surprised to see that her hands were shaking. There was something she had to do now which would cause her the most bitter agony, but for Nicky’s sake she must. Bending over the bed, she said softly to her son:
‘Look who’s here, Nicky—it’s your daddy.’
There was a tension-filled moment when she felt Kieron’s incredulous stare and Nicky’s uncertain one, and then Kieron was sitting next to her on the bed, his eyes on his son’s face as he said huskily, ‘Hello, Nicky.’
When she closed the bedroom door behind her, there were tears in Briony’s eyes. She couldn’t remember a time when anything had caused her quite so much pain, unless it was the discovery of Kieron’s deceit, and she had to bite her lip to prevent herself from crying out loud. What was Kieron saying to Nicky? Was he trying to poison the little boy’s mind against her?
She went into her own bedroom, plugging in her hair-dryer and brushing her hair, the activity helping to disperse her restless thoughts.
They could not be held back for ever, though, and she was on her knees, her head in her hands, the hairdryer whirring away unregarded at her side, when Kieron walked in.
He was beside her before she was aware of his presence, her eyes moving slowly along his lean length, as he gripped her arms to pull her upwards.