Forget Me Not (Escape Contemporary Romance) (16 page)

And now Claire knew how valuable it truly was.

When he covered her mouth with his, she stood on her tip-toes, and wrapped her arms around his neck, ,and kissed him back.

She didn’t have to go back to the real world.

Yet.

Chapter Fifteen

James Porter was sitting at the polished dining table in their suite, the remnants of their late breakfast sitting before him as he watched his wife pace the room.

Another city, another hotel room. They all looked the same after a while. This one was incredibly luxurious, and he had to admit the view of the harbour was truly spectacular—it could’ve been straight out of
Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous
—but that didn’t mean anything, not really.

‘Perhaps we should call in the lawyers,’ Barbara said, without breaking her pace.

‘You might end up doing a four-mile power walk at this rate,’ James spluttered. ‘There’s a fully-equipped gym downstairs, or we could ask them to send a treadmill up. It’ll save wear on the carpet.’

Stopping in her tracks, Barbara glared at him. ‘You’re quite the witty one today. I don’t think any of this is funny.’

‘Neither do I.’ He held her gaze. ‘Come on, what do you think the lawyers could do? No one has committed a crime.’

‘That woman is stealing my son.’

‘Stefan is an adult. Has been for a long time.’

‘He’s got amnesia and is obviously not in his right mind. There must be some legal grounds to stop her from taking over his life again.’

‘Calm down. You’re getting melodramatic.’

‘We must be able to book him into some sort of clinic, even if it’s against his will. We’ve got to get him away from that woman.’

‘Can’t you see what happened last night?’ James pointed to the chair beside him, offering it to Barbara. She turned him down with a curt nod of the head. ‘The more we try to push Stefan away from her, the closer it brings them together. Last night was a disaster. It didn’t get us anywhere.’

Barbara’s lips were thin. ‘She’s so manipulative and he can’t even see it. He never could. With his memory gone, there’s no chance Stefan will now.’

‘There’s always a chance. We haven’t lost everything. We’re still his parents.’

James could see his wife’s hands shaking. Her eyes had welled up with tears but her head was still held high. Barbara had a sharp tongue and had been known to fly off the deep end at the drop of a hat, and this wasn’t a small matter to her. This was her son.

He went to her, wrapped his arms around her, and held her tight. Barbara was so small, all bones, but she refused to eat more.

‘I just wish he’d come home where he belongs,’ she said, her head pressed against his chest. ‘Back to the States. Back to us.’

Their daughter Caroline spent half her time in New York and the other half travelling with her husband, who worked as an investment banker. But, that was different. Caroline
hadn’t abandoned them or the values they’d instilled in her, and she’d married well. Stefan seemed to have turned his back on so many things.

They had been shocked to find out their son had amnesia, and had been even more shocked to find him shacked up with Claire again, but all was not lost, not yet.

All James had to do was take it easy and try a softer approach.

'I brought you some home-made choc chip cookies.’ June Simons thrust the Tupperware container into Claire’s hands.

‘Mum, you don’t have to keep feeding us,’ Claire protested, followed her mother into the living room. ‘We can both cook, you know.’

She wondered why her mother was there. Lately, her mum seemed to be using any excuse to drop by.

Claire knew exactly what her mother was doing.

‘The cookies aren’t for you,’ June said. ‘They’re for Stefan. He’s the one who gave me the recipe.’

Stefan looked up from the sofa where he was having a coffee after lunch. ‘Did I?’

‘Yes. Apparently you had an aunt who used to make these for you when you were young, and you brought the recipe with you from America to remind you of home. They’re excellent cookies. Try one.’

Claire opened the container and offered one to Stefan, who picked up a cookie, holding it out for examination. He held an irregular-shaped mound with lumps of chocolate sticking out in his hand—it didn’t look particularly inviting.

‘They’re not meant to look like an artwork,’ June said. ‘Your words not mine. But they’re tasty.’

All eyes were on Stefan as he bit into the cookie and nodded, making his enjoyment plain. ‘Darned tasty, I’d say.’

‘I’ll put the kettle on.’ Claire turned to her mother. ‘You don’t have to keep checking up on me. I’m fine. Really.’

‘I wasn’t checking up on you. This time, I’m checking up on Stefan. And don’t put the kettle on just yet.’ June sat on the arm of the sofa, turning her gaze to Stefan. ‘I know you had dinner with your parents last night and I wanted to see how it went.’

Stefan shrugged. ‘Fine.’

‘So you two are both
fine
. Well, I don’t believe it’s all been that easy. You must have been anxious about meeting them and I can’t imagine how they must have felt. I wouldn’t know what to think or do if I were in their shoes.’

Stefan leaned forward, his arms resting on his thighs. ‘Actually, it was a disaster but you already knew that. Did Claire tell you?’

‘I didn’t need Claire to tell me. I’ve met your parents before and know that you’ve had issues with them in the past. Throw your amnesia into the mix and it’s got to be difficult, at best.’

‘I don’t want to see them again.’ Stefan shook his head. ‘They’re terrible snobs and they have a low opinion Claire, though I can’t work out why. They didn’t even give her any credit for helping me out. I felt like I was stuck in the middle of their prejudice, and in the end I decided I wasn’t going to put up with it.’

‘They’re still your parents,’ June said.

Stefan raised his eyebrows. ‘Any reason I should care?’

’I’ve got as much reason as anybody to dislike them as anyone, but whatever happened last night and whatever they said, they still love you.’

‘They’ve got a very strange way of showing it.’

‘That’s true but it doesn’t change the fact they love you.’

‘Why are you sticking up for them, June?’

‘I’m not, but I know what it’s like to love your children, and then have to let one of them go and live across the other side of the county.’

‘So, I should listen to them insult Claire, let them do what they like and simply put up with it?’

‘You should do what you think best.’

That was always Claire’s mother’s advice.
I raised you to think for yourself and make your own decisions
, that was what she’d say.
Don’t let anyone else tell you what to do. You’re strong enough to make up your own mind
.

He reached into the Tupperware container. ‘I think it’s best if I eat more cookies.’

‘Good, at least we agree on something.’

Claire let out a small sigh, glad that conversation was over. She didn’t want to think about Stefan’s parents anymore than she had to.

‘Time for that cup of tea, then,’ Claire said.

‘Actually, darling, I thought you might show me that baby goods store,’ June said. ‘The one that’s nearby.’

‘Sure. I can’t take too long, though, because I’ve got to pop into work.’ Turning to Stefan, she said, ‘You don’t mind, do you?’

‘Not at all.’

Her mother had been stocking up on jump-suits and bibs and other paraphernalia for her soon-to-be-born grandchild for a while now, but it seemed she still didn’t have enough.

Claire remembered the first time she’d walked into a baby wear store looking for something for Sophie’s baby. She’d walked around in a daze, looking at everything but refusing to touch.

It had scared her, brought back memories she didn’t want to have, brought back the old fears. So she’d left.

She’d returned a week later determined to buy something for Sophie’s baby, and she had. She couldn’t keep letting the past hold her back, no matter how painful it was.

Claire grabbed her bag and the two women were out the door seconds later.

‘It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you so happy,’ her mother said as they walked down the street. ‘I could see it as soon as you opened the door.’

‘I told you I was fine.’

‘You’re not fine. You’re something else. You seem lighter, more carefree.’

Claire wondered if was possible her mother could tell, just by looking at her, that she and Stefan were having sex. No, that wasn’t the kind of happiness she was talking about. This went deeper still.

‘So you wanted to check up on Stefan and, have a talk with me?’ she asked.

Her mother stopped outside the shop window with its display of high chairs and baby merchandise. ‘That’s right.’

‘I know you’re worried about me but I’m getting used to it all. Stefan I are getting along well.’

‘Actually, I wanted to talk
to
you, not about you.’

‘God, this sounds serious. Should we sit down somewhere?’

’No, I won’t harp on but I did want to catch you on your own.’ Her mother paused. ‘Do you know what my biggest regret in life is?’

June’s husband, Claire’s father, had caused her mother the most pain in her life. Claire knew that, though her mother had never complained about having to work, support the family and take care of the girls on her own. She’d never complained about getting hit by her husband, either. Had never complained about anything.

‘You don’t have to apologise for marrying Dad,’ Claire said. ‘You were a good mother and we were a happy family, the three of us.’

June shook her head. ‘I don’t regret marrying your father.’

That couldn’t be right. He’d been the cause of her biggest problems—or his alcoholism had—and that was all a part of the man.

Claire and Sophie had never seen their father hit their mother, but they’d been on the other side of the locked door and had heard the thump of his fists and the crash of their mother’s body as she landed. They’d heard her begging him to stop. They’d felt her fear.

‘I thought you wished you’d never laid eyes on him,’ Claire said.

‘I don’t regret falling in love.’

Claire couldn’t believe she was hearing this. ‘But he used to
beat
you.’

‘That was why I left but, it hadn’t always been like that.’ Her mother paused. ‘Don’t forget, he gave me the greatest gift of all—you two girls. I certainly don’t regret the children we had together.’

‘You could’ve found a decent man, though. One who’d take care of you, a different man who’d give you children.’

‘But those children wouldn’t have been you and Sophie. Without your father, I wouldn’t have had you. He was a wonderful husband at first, and even after he took to the bottle, there were long patches where he’d stay off the drink and were happy together. No, I don’t regret marrying your father.’

‘Then, what?’

‘If I could go back and change one thing it would be this—I’d have left him sooner, after the first time he struck me, at the first serious sign things were bad.’

‘I never understood why you didn’t. I’m not blaming you,’ Claire quickly added, ‘I just can’t see why you hung in there.’

‘I lied to myself, convinced that you girls weren’t suffering too when he hit me.’ She lowered her voice. ‘That’s what it was—a lie. I shouldn’t have let it get that far. I should’ve seen it coming and left earlier. But I loved him and told myself that he’d change and everything would be back the way it was.’

Claire’s eyes narrowed. ‘I hated him for hitting you. And for everything else.’

‘I know. I hated being beaten, but I always loved him, even after we left. I didn’t let that stop me, though I had to take of you girls and myself.’

‘Sophie and I always thought you hated him because of what he did to you. We thought the reason you didn’t leave was because you were too scared.’

‘I was scared of what he might do to me if I left, of starting off on my own with you girls, of having failed in my marriage. But I never said I hated him.’

The whole thing was far in the past now. Claire wasn’t sure why her mother had brought it up.

‘When you were older, he got himself cleaned up and tried to come back to us,’ June said. ‘He’d only been sober a short time but I knew it wouldn’t last. I wasn’t going to put you girls through that again, or myself, for that matter.’

’I remember. Sophie and I know you did what was best for us.

‘But I should’ve left earlier. That’s the thing. I shouldn’t have let myself stay so involved.

‘Why are you telling me this now?’ Claire asked.

‘Because I look at you and I see myself twenty years ago.’

Claire didn’t say anything. Her mother had said what she came to say and wouldn’t call Claire a fool, wouldn’t tell her what to do.

More clearly than anyone else, her mother understood how complex the situation was between her and Stefan. Unlike Sophie, June wasn’t one-eyed about this. She still cared for Stefan and wanted him to recover.

But her mother thought Claire was headed for a fall.

It wasn’t like that. Claire’s head wasn’t in the clouds. She knew her relationship Stefan wouldn’t last.

She wasn’t jumping off a cliff with no safety harness. She had a parachute and was enjoying the trip down, floating through the air, enjoying the ride. Sure, landing was the tricky bit and she’d hit the ground soon but Claire knew exactly what was coming.

She only had Stefan for a short time.

No one knew that better than her.

Chapter Sixteen

Briefcase in hand, Claire carefully balanced a French stick in the other while turning the key in the door and pushing it open. Gently pressing the door shut behind her with one foot, she stopped, her eyes darting around the room.

This wasn’t the apartment she’d left. There were books scattered on the dining table, CDs covering the coffee table, and rock music blaring from the stereo. She felt like she’d walked into a teenager’s bedroom, only one that looked remarkably like the place Claire called home.

The smell of frying onions and garlic mixed with tomato as it wafted through the air. Nope, this wasn’t a teenager. Must be Stefan.