A Family Affair (41 page)

She couldn't argue with that, much as she would have liked to be able to. He'd spent as little time as possible at home; even when he hadn't been with her he'd made use of every possible excuse to stay out – work, conferences, golf, tennis, charity committees, every conceivable medical body. But he'd slept in his own bed at night. The fact that he had done so had, he had always argued, given his sons some sense of security.

‘Are they all right?' she asked now. ‘How have they taken it?'

‘I'm worried about Giles. Thomas is very much his mother's son. He'll be all right I think.' He emptied his glass in one long swallow, the strain suddenly evident in the taut lines around his mouth, the way his eyes hooded.

Tenderness darted in her, a sweet treacherous barb.

‘Do you want another drink?'

‘I shouldn't. I had a couple before I left and I've got to drive home. At least …' his eyes met hers, dark eyes flecked with gold beneath those hooded lids ‘… I
suppose
I've got to drive home …'

Another treacherous dart, this time naked desire.
Oh Helen, why do you let him do this to you? Why can he break down your defences so easily?

‘One more won't do you any harm,' she said. ‘I've never yet seen you drunk, Guy.'

She fetched the bottle and the ice, refilled his glass and her own. As she gave it to him, he reached out with his free hand, catching her by the arm.

‘Helen – I need you.'

Unexpectedly tears sprang to her eyes.

‘Don't cry, Helen,' he said. ‘There's nothing to cry about. It's for the best. We can be together now, just as we always wanted.'

She gazed at him for a moment, emotions churning.

‘I don't know, Guy.'

‘What do you mean – you don't know?'

‘This is all happening too fast.'

‘We were together for five years, Helen. How can it be too fast?'

‘But things are different now. Everything's changed.'

‘In what way?'

‘Every way. My life is here now. I'm not a junior hospital doctor any more. I'm sixteen miles out of Bristol with a busy country practice and my own home.'

‘That's not insurmountable. It's hardly the other end of England. And later on, when the dust settles, you could always look for a practice in the city.'

The old resentment flared again.

‘I don't know that I'd want to do that, Guy. I'm happy here.'

‘All right, all right,' he said hastily. ‘We don't have to make any decisions now. There's plenty of time for that. The important thing is we still have one another. Don't we? That hasn't changed, has it?'

‘I don't know,' she said again.

His eyes narrowed.

‘You don't know? How can you not know?'

‘Guy, I put my life on hold for you for five years,' she said fiercely. ‘When I left Bristol I cut you out of it. It wasn't easy. It was damned difficult. But I did it. And I'm happy. Happier than I was for at least half of those five years.'

‘I thought I made you happy.' He sounded hurt.

‘Well, you didn't. We had happy times, yes. We could have been happy. But let me assure you it's no fun being the other woman. Having to hide love away when you want to shout it from the rooftops. Alone at Christmas, and most nights as well. Knowing that you were with your family. Knowing I had no rights – not a single one. Snatching time together. Wondering if it would ever be any different. Hopes raised, then dashed again. Living in limbo. And always on the outside, looking in. It's soul destroying, Guy.'

‘But it won't be like that now. You'll have what you wanted.'

She sighed. ‘I'm not sure if I want it any more. All those years … Something dies. When I left I still wanted you, yes. But that was … habit. I've trained myself out of it now. And I can't just switch my emotions on and off like a tap.'

He groaned, his face going shut in but failing to hide the hurt within.

‘Don't tell me it's too late, Helen. Please don't tell me that.'

‘I'm telling you I don't know, and that is the truth.'

‘All right,' he said. ‘I accept you haven't always had a fair deal, but I do love you, Helen. I've never stopped loving you. I accept too that this has come as a bit of a bolt from the blue and I can see you might need a little time to accustom yourself to the idea that I'm free now.'

‘You're not free,' she interrupted. ‘Not by a long chalk.'

‘But I will be. The biggest step has been taken. We
can
be together, and I won't ever hurt you again, I promise. It's been hell without you. Absolute sheer hell. Take all the time you need, Helen, but don't send me away.'

The treacherous longing tugged at her heart again. The hurts of the past, the hopelessness of it, what did they matter if he really meant what he said? What did anything matter? The old magic was still there, lurking just beneath the surface.
Step this way for the fairytale ending … Or the merry-go-round to heartbreak
…

‘We can take it slowly, Helen. Get used to being together again. One step at a time. Can't we?'

His hands found her hands, those irresistible golden-flecked eyes found her eyes.

I shouldn't have drunk all that bloody gin!
she thought, the last of her resistance draining away.

‘Can't we, Helen?'

He was close enough now for her to smell his oh-so-subtle cologne, close enough to be aware of his body as a magnet to hers, energising every particle of skin, every pore.

‘Just as long as you don't expect to just take on where we left off,' she said. ‘Just as long as we really do take it slowly.'

But even as she said it, she was wondering how long
that
would last.

A nugget of anxiety had invaded Jenny's dream world worrying away at her happiness like a pearl in an oyster. The physical side of her relationship with Bryn.

Emotionally, everything had happened so fast, and where her emotions led, her body wanted to follow. Being close to him produced previously unimagined sensations which fired her with urgency and desire so powerful that it made her want to throw caution to the winds. Yet conversely she felt she was not ready. Making love was such an enormous step, and not only that, when it finally happened it had to be perfect. Nothing less would do. And there could not be any going back – not ever. The first time was the first time and could never be repeated.

But in the dead of night when she lay caressing her body and reliving the glorious sensations Bryn had aroused in her she found herself remembering Barry and the way he had dumped her for June – an older girl who, Jenny was sure, had been prepared to allow him to do things which she had not. Supposing Bryn did the same? They'd already gone further than she'd allowed anyone else to go, but she knew he wanted more, as much, if not more, as she did. She could feel the pent-up passion in his body, sensed the frustration that could find no release. If he decided he couldn't stand it any longer and abandoned her for someone who was easier … the dread washed over her in a cold tide, bringing tears to her eyes.

Tonight, as they so often did, they had walked round to the football field. The moon and stars were very bright, making it almost as light as day.

‘Shall I show you my special place?' Jenny said.

‘What d'you mean – your special place?'

‘Where I go when I want to be alone – to write, or think, or whatever. Nobody else knows about it – or at least, they don't bother with it. See – up there!'

‘The roof!' Bryn sounded horrified. ‘You don't climb on the
roof
!'

‘Yes I do. What's wrong with that?'

‘It doesn't look very safe to me.'

Jenny laughed. ‘It's perfectly safe! And getting up is easy – look, I'll show you!'

Before he could stop her she had scrambled up, unable to resist the chance to show that here, at least, she was not clumsy Jenny who could not vault a horse and who was afraid to turn somersaults over the bar of the iron roller.

‘Come on – come up and see! It's a wonderful view!'

He scrambled up to join her and she danced to the edge.

‘Be careful, Jenny!' He put his arms around her, pulling her back, and then they were kissing and happiness filled her because Bryn was here with her in her special place, and for ever after it would be even more special.

He spread his coat down on the tarpaulin roof and they sat down and before long she forgot all about where they were as her body became sensitised under his touch. Even the cold leather of his jacket under her bare legs felt sensuous and she wriggled her hips to meet his so that his body nestled between her legs in the way that aroused her most.

‘Oh, Bryn …' It was almost a sob.

He moved slightly and she pulled him back, not wanting the lovely sharp sensation to stop for even a moment. But to her surprise she felt his bare flesh, probing where a moment ago there had been only that sensuous bulge under his jeans.

‘Jenny, I want you …' His breath against her face was ragged but suddenly all the inner turmoil was welling up.

Oh yes, she wanted him too – but they mustn't! Not here, not like this.

‘Bryn – no!' She wriggled a little and he pulled back.

‘Jenny …'

‘No – please don't! Don't make me …'

For a moment she thought his passion was going to get the better of him. Then with a groan he threw himself off her and lay on his back, staring up at the stars. Fear trickled into the place desire was occupying. He was so still there, one arm lying across his face, his head turned away from her.

Oh God
, she thought,
I've done it now! He'll hate me – he'll never want to see me again.

‘Bryn …' she whispered fearfully. ‘I
do
want to – I really do – but we mustn't! Oh please, say you'll still go out with me! If you didn't want to see me again I couldn't bear it!'

For another long moment he lay motionless, then he turned his head to look at her.

‘No, you're right, Jenny. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have …'

‘You should! But just … not yet.'

‘I know. I'm sorry.'

‘Stop saying you're sorry!' Her lip trembled. ‘I suppose now you think I'm just a stupid baby.'

‘Oh, Jen! You know I don't think anything of the sort! I just can't help wanting you, that's all. We'd better stop getting into this sort of situation, or I'll end up doing something we'll both regret.'

She swallowed hard. She hated the thought of not being in this sort of situation, but she could see that they were playing with fire. It wasn't fair on Bryn – she was leading him on and then slamming on the brakes. He was right. They'd have to change their ways until she was ready.

‘Come on,' he said. ‘I'd better get you home.'

But for Jenny the nugget of worry had grown so that it was no longer just an irritation but something which was overshadowing her world. It wasn't a problem that was going to go away.

‘Can I have a word, Helen?'

Reuben Hobbs'head appeared round her door as she worked her way through a pile of repeat prescriptions after finishing morning surgery. His expression was unreadable but the body language and general vibes were not promising and Helen's first, slightly irrational, thought was that he had somehow discovered that Guy had spent the night with her, albeit in the spare room, when they had come to the conclusion that he had consumed too much gin to drive back to Bristol. But that was ridiculous; though no doubt some of the sharper-eyed neighbours would have noticed the big silver car on the parking space outside Number 11 Greenslade Terrace, none of them would have been likely to pick up the telephone (even if they had one, which few did) and call Dr Hobbs about it. Even if they had, it was none of his business. That such an idea should even cross her mind was, Helen realised, a sign of her own guilty conscience.

She capped her fountain pen and went along the corridor to Reuben's surgery. Another pointer to something less than pleasant in store was the way Reuben had disappeared immediately after summoning her. Something informal and he would simply have followed his nose into her surgery and plonked himself down on one of the consulting chairs.

‘Nothing's wrong, I hope, Reuben,' she said, going into the big pleasant room which was, this morning, bright with winter sunshine.

Reuben looked up from his own pile of repeat prescriptions and gesticulated towards the chair which faced his across his ink-stained desk.

‘Sit down, Helen.'

She did so, her heart sinking.

Reuben finished off a prescription with a flourish and laid his pen on the blotter.

‘I've had a request from the Hillier family to transfer to Dr Honeybourne at South Compton.'

‘Really?' Helen didn't quite know how to respond to this; the Hilliers, who were on her list, lived virtually right on the border between the two towns. ‘Did they give a reason?'

‘Well, yes.' Reuben looked directly at her over the rim of his spectacles. ‘I don't like having to tell you this, Helen, but I feel I must. They said specifically it was because they were not satisfied with the way you've been looking after them.'

Helen's skin began to prickle. ‘They said
that
?'

‘I'm afraid so. I tried to talk them into simply moving on to my list, but they thought that would result in an awkward situation. They preferred to change practices.'

‘Dr Honeybourne.'

‘Yes. He'll snap them up, of course. The more patients he can get on his books the better, never mind that they actually live in Hillsbridge.'

‘Only just …'

‘Dammit, Helen, are you trying to be funny?'

‘Of course not,' Helen said. Under the new National Health arrangements practices were paid per head of patients on their books. Dr Honeybourne's gain was Reuben's loss, financially as well as psychologically. ‘What exactly was their complaint?'