Page 33 of A Cure for Love

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‘Thanks a lot,’ Lacey responded drily, dipping her head so that Jessica couldn’t see the betraying emotion in her eyes.

Lewis was an excellent actor, she had to give him that, but she wasn’t sure that his acting was doing either of them any good. Sooner or later Jessica wou

ld have to know the truth. But not until after they knew the results of her tests. As Lewis had pointed out, she would need them both then, especially if the tests proved positive.

‘Why don’t you go back with Dad tomorrow when he goes home?’ Jessica suggested. ‘After all, there’s nothing to stop you, is there?’

‘No? I do have a job, remember.’

‘Yes, but you’ll be giving that up once the two of you remarry, won’t you?’ Jessica told her confidently. ‘I know you’ll want to continue with your fund-raising work, and, from what Dad’s been saying to me about his involvement in the research into the effects of the disorder, he’ll more than support you in that, but if you do have a baby…or two…’

Sighing to herself, Lacey stood up.

‘We’d better go downstairs,’ she told her daughter. ‘Lewis will be here soon.’

CHAPTER EIGHT

THEY were having dinner at the same restaurant where Lacey had taken Jessica on the night of the presentation.

Then she had looked up and across the restaurant, had suffered the shock of seeing Lewis, and hadn’t dreamed then for one moment that there would ever come a time when she might be seated opposite him at a table in that same restaurant; she had certainly not envisaged that Jessica would be with them, nor that she would be trapped in a situation where she had to pretend that she and Lewis were considering remarrying.

She had as little appetite now as she had had then, and for the same reason, although now Lewis was sitting a lot closer to her than he had been on that occasion.

To an outsider, no doubt, they presented a picture of happy family intimacy, a close-knit, loving family unit. She closed her eyes against the pain of her own thoughts. Only she knew how much she wished that picture was a true one.

‘Are you OK, Ma?’ Jessica asked her anxiously. ‘You’ve gone very pale.’

‘I’m just tired, that’s all,’ Lacey fibbed, forcing her mouth into an unwilling smile. For Jessica’s sake she had to go along with this charade, at least until they had the results of her tests.

She shook her head when Lewis asked her if she had any preference as regarded their wine, absently noticing that Jessica leaned over to him and whispered something to him as he was beckoning the wine waiter.

Later, when they brought the ice bucket and champagne to the table, she looked at it in bewilderment.

‘Jessica’s idea,’ Lewis explained briefly. ‘She thought we ought to celebrate our reconciliation, and to toast the future.’

Once Lacey had loved champagne, enjoying its ice-cold taste on her tongue and the excitement of the bubbles as they slid down her throat; now it made her feel slightly queasy, just as did the food in front of her.

She tried to make an effort, to appear happy and relaxed, but she knew from the brief looks that Lewis occasionally gave her that, although she might have deceived Jessica, she had not deceived him.

It caused an odd weakening sensation in the pit of her stomach to realise that it was not her daughter who knew her the best, who had registered her real feelings, but Lewis.

It was a relief when the evening finally drew to a close and they left the restaurant.

In the comfort of Lewis’s car, with the tyres swishing soothingly on the tarmac, she found her eyes closing and her body growing heavy with sleep, and several times during the short journey she discovered that she was having to force herself to stay awake.

When Lewis brought the car to a standstill outside the house she fumbled automatically for the door-handle, tensing when he reached across her to open the door for her, drawing her body back into her seat to avoid coming into contact with him.

She saw from the look he gave her that he recognised what she was doing, although she couldn’t understand why her action should make him look so bitterly angry. Jessica wasn’t watching them. She was already out of the car.

‘You look exhausted,’ he told her flatly and unflatteringly. ‘I shan’t stay. I’ll see you in, but I shan’t stay.’

Jessica, though, had other ideas. As the three of them walked towards the house she announced blithely, ‘Now I intend to have an early night, so you two needn’t worry about my playing gooseberry. To judge from that kiss I witnessed this afternoon, you’d both appreciate some time on your own.’

Lacey stumbled on the path, and instantly Lewis reached out to steady her. The last thing she could handle right now was time alone with him, and yet if she objected…protested, Jessica was going to start asking questions.

Once they were inside and Jessica had said her goodnights, Lewis said quietly to her. ‘I’m sorry about this. Look, why don’t you go and sit down? I’ll make us both a cup of tea.’

It was only as she nodded her head and opened the kitchen door that she realised that this was her house, and that she should be the one playing host, instead of allowing Lewis to take charge.


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