Edward had to say that twice more before it sank in.
The front door clicked and opened with agonizing slowness. Pete stumbled through it, praying desperately as he hurried to the lifts that no one would see him in this state.
Edward felt only irritation when he heard Pete’s voice on the intercom, then was shocked to the core as his cousin began sobbing. He’d never heard Pete lose it like this. He opened the door of his flat, heard the lift ping and saw Pete stumble down the hallway towards him, still sobbing.
Putting an arm round his cousin’s shoulders, Edward guided him into the flat and sat him down on the sofa. He sat beside him till the sobbing died down.
‘Here. Take this.’ He thrust a wad of tissues into Pete’s hand and moved further along the sofa, sitting sideways to watch, wondering what the hell had started this.
‘Got a whisky?’ Pete asked.
‘At this hour? No. I can make you a coffee.’
‘Just had a cup of tea at Mum’s.’ His breath hiccupped and he scrubbed his eyes again.
‘You told her.’
‘Yes. She didn’t know I’d been kidnapped, I’d stake my life on that.’
‘You don’t have to persuade me. I can’t imagine Aunt Sue doing that.’
‘But she did know the adoption wasn’t above board. Dad told her it was a private one, that a young unmarried mother wanted to be sure who was taking her son.’ Pete tried to laugh and failed completely. He blew his nose hard before he continued. ‘They had a son who died. Dad somehow managed to change the records and I became him. So I’m not really Pete, am I?’
Edward didn’t know what to say or do.
‘I’ve forgotten my real name. What did my damned sister say I was called?’
‘Greg. Greg Harding.’
Pete stared at him. ‘I’ve never liked the name Greg. Perhaps I remembered something subliminally.’
The silence was laden with so much pain that neither spoke for a moment or two. What must it be like, Edward wondered, to suddenly find out your whole life had been a lie, that your parents were not related to you, that you had a birth mother still mourning your loss, and a sister?
‘You’re not even my cousin. That hurts too.’ Pete looked at the crumpled tissues and let out a sigh that was nearer a groan. ‘I think I need to wash my face.’
‘No hurry.’
‘I’ve never thought myself weak, but I lost it today, Edward.’
‘Anyone would in the circumstances.’
There was silence, then, ‘What the hell am I going to do?’
‘Do nothing till you’re sure what you want.’
‘I want it never to have happened! That’s not possible, though, is it?’ He stood up. ‘I’d better wash my face. I’m ready for that coffee now.’
Edward watched him go before heading for the kitchen.
When footsteps crossed the sitting area of the big main room, he turned, expecting to see his cousin looking better. Instead Pete was glaring at him.
‘You’re sleeping with her now, aren’t you?’
‘What?’
‘That woman. Beth. My sister. You’re sleeping with her. You’ve got her phone number on the pad next to the bed – and two people slept there last night.’
‘If that’s any of your business, yes, I am.’
‘She’s using you – and you’re dumb enough to let her.’
‘She’s not like that.’
Pete spun round and marched towards the door. ‘Be sure to tell her what an idiot I’ve been today. Why don’t you take her over to meet Mum while you’re at it? Call yourself a friend! You’re a damned
traitor
! We brought you up when you had no one. It’s
us
you should be loyal to, not them.’ He slammed the door after him.
‘Can’t I care about both of you?’ Edward murmured. He didn’t chase after Pete. He didn’t think anyone could talk sense into him at the moment.
But he was utterly certain Beth wasn’t using him.
He wished she weren’t Pete’s birth sister, though. This was going to complicate things horribly. And Pete was right. His aunt and uncle had taken him in after his parents died, had brought him up with love, as if he too were their son. He did owe them loyalty.
But that didn’t mean he was going to give up the woman he loved. He blinked in shock at this thought. How could he fall in love with someone so quickly? Then he smiled. How could he not when it was Beth? It seemed as natural to be with her as it was to breathe.
By the following teatime Pete was going stir crazy in his flat. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spent Saturday evening on his own. Fran had always had something lined up for them to do. She’d been a good social organizer, he had to give her that.
Not that he wanted her back, not bloody likely.
He picked up the newspaper and flicked through one of the pull-out sections. Entertainment. He checked the TV pages to see whether
In Focus
had been mentioned and it hadn’t. He’d have to see if he could stir up some more publicity.
Idly, he flicked a few more pages and found the theatre section. One advert jumped out at him: a concert with Rosa Caralina. He smiled at the memory of having a drink with her. He’d really enjoyed her company. Then he remembered that she’d sent him a couple of tickets for that particular concert. What had he done with them?
He went into his home office, which wasn’t much used, and hunted through the jumble on his desk. He usually threw bits and pieces here, letting Fran sort them out every day or two. But there was no sign of the tickets.
Remembering that Rosa had sent them to the studio, he went back into the bedroom and searched the pockets of his jackets.
‘Aha!’ He pulled out two crumpled tickets and waggled them triumphantly, then studied the details. The concert started at eight o’clock. When he turned over, he saw ‘
Drinks in the green room afterwards, Rosa
’, scrawled on one.
‘Why not?’ he said aloud. There was plenty of time to grab something to eat and get to the concert.
Should he see if Edward fancied coming too? No, his cousin would probably be with
her
.
Feeling a lot better, Pete went for a shower, dithering over what to wear, something Fran usually sorted out for him. She’d definitely had her uses. In the end he went for a dark grey suit and pale pink shirt, no tie. It looked all right to him.
Stuffing the tickets into his pocket he called for a taxi and went into the City. There were dozens of eating places near the theatre. He chose a Chinese restaurant which had dim lighting. He wasn’t in the mood for being recognized.
Replete, he walked to the concert hall, delighted to be given an excellent seat. He’d never really gone mad for opera and classical stuff, but he didn’t want something with loud, thumping rhythms tonight. He wanted something that would soothe and relax him.
Fourteen
After Beth had taken Ghita and the shopping back to the flat, she went into the office to check that everything was going well for the weekend. Sandy was just getting ready to leave.
‘No problems?’
‘None at all. You didn’t need to come in.’
‘Oh, you know me. I’m a control freak.’
‘You’re not. You’re just a super-efficient manager. Got anything planned for tonight?’
‘I’m having dinner with Jo and Ghita, a special welcome dinner, postponed from earlier in the week.’
‘Not seeing Edward again?’
‘I don’t know. I hope so. But not tonight.’ She could feel herself blushing and was relieved when Sandy didn’t comment on that.
‘Why don’t you give him a ring and invite him along too?’
But she didn’t need to ring him. Midway through the afternoon one of the security staff at the office phoned her.
‘There’s a man to see you, Ms Harding. Name’s Edward Newbury.’
‘Send him up.’ She went to meet him at the door of the suite, which she kept locked when she worked outside normal business hours.
Edward smiled and pulled her into his arms for a kiss. Only as he drew back did he say, ‘Hello there.’
‘How did you find me?’
‘I remembered your company’s name. It wasn’t hard after that.’ He looked round. ‘This place is rather like you, no frills and yet – attractive.’
‘You don’t need frills when you run a cleaning service. Mostly clients don’t even come here. I go out to see prospective clients and I look over their premises at the same time. Come into my office. I’ll make you a cup of tea.’
‘I’d love that.’
Edward watched Beth walk across to the kettle. She was smiling, looking relaxed and at home here. ‘Where would you like to go tonight?’
‘I can’t go anywhere, I’m afraid. I’m having a celebration meal with Jo and Ghita, to make them feel welcome. Ghita’s cooking something special.’
He was disappointed. ‘Tomorrow, then?’
‘Tomorrow would be fine.’
‘Let’s go out for the day, drive into the country, have a leisurely lunch at a pub.’
‘Sounds great.’
He sipped his coffee. ‘What time are you due home today?’
‘Not for a couple of hours.’
‘If you’ve nothing pressing to do, we could go for a walk . . . or visit a museum . . . or anything else you fancy.’
‘I’d enjoy a walk. How about we go along the Embankment? There’s always something to see there.’
‘Great.’ He could feel himself grinning foolishly. She did that to him, made him feel happy, partly because he didn’t have to guess her moods or pander to them. He’d never met a woman who was so up front about everything. ‘How’s it going with your house guests?’
‘Crowded. Noisy. They’re lovely children, but I’d forgotten how omnipresent toddlers are: toys, mess, tantrums. Ghita is brilliant with them, thank goodness.’
He decided to be just as up front with her. ‘How am I to court you with so much going on in your life?’
She froze, staring at him as if she couldn’t believe what she’d heard.
He was a bit surprised himself. ‘I shocked you, didn’t I? I didn’t intend to blurt it out like that, but I’m so tired of spin doctoring and being tactful to people I don’t like, not to mention keeping Pete on an even keel. And I do want to court you.’
She put out one hand to steady herself on the table, as if she felt disoriented.
He wasn’t going to back pedal. ‘It’s an old-fashioned word, but I’ve got old-fashioned feelings for you.’
She flushed and one of her hands went up protectively to her throat. ‘You’re going too fast, Edward.’
‘Am I? It didn’t seem too fast last night. We’re good together, and sex isn’t what I’m talking about.’ He grinned. ‘Though it doesn’t hurt that we suit in bed too. The thing is, I didn’t want you to leave after we’d made love. I wanted us to sleep together, wake up together, have breakfast and laugh together. I’ve not felt like this about anyone for years.’
‘Oh.’
He felt a little angry. ‘Is that all you can say? “
Oh!
” Don’t you feel anything for me?’
‘I am . . . attracted. Only, I’d shut down that side of me, put all my energy into my business. I’m a bit surprised by what’s happening between us, if you must know. I don’t usually hop into bed with near strangers.’
She spread her arms in a helpless gesture that made him want to hold her close and tell her it was all right, he’d never hurt her or let her down. But he didn’t want to frighten her off. ‘How about I slow down a little, then?’
She nodded, giving him a shy half-smile. ‘Yes. Do you mind?’
‘I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy.’
Her eyes were suddenly very bright. ‘What a lovely thing to say.’
‘So . . . about this walk? Courtship, stage one, eh? Just like our grandparents.’
‘I’ll enjoy walking out with you. And please don’t stop – courting me, I mean.’
‘Care to seal that agreement with a kiss?’
She stepped forward and cupped his cheeks in her hands, kissing him sweetly and firmly on the mouth. He liked her doing that, didn’t want to have to make all the running. Love should be a two-way thing.
He took her hand as they left the building and they alternately chatted and enjoyed the walk. But it was over all too soon.
‘I’ll take you home by taxi.’
She laughed at him. ‘The Tube is cheaper and there’s a station nearby.’
‘I’ll come with you, then.’ As they sat on the rattling train, he said, ‘It’s certainly cheaper.’
‘And more eco-friendly.’
‘I’d better get used to it then. I’m out of work now.’
‘Short of money?’
‘No. I’ve got some put by. I’m always careful with my money. I don’t need to rush into anything now, which is a good thing, because I’m not sure what I’m going to do with my life. They say it happens in your forties, don’t they? Reorientation of life and career.’
‘Yes. It happened to me.’ She stood up, balancing easily in the swaying vehicle. ‘My stop.’
They lingered for a moment or two outside her flat. He took hold of both her hands and pulled her to him for a quick kiss, then stepped back and watched her go inside. He didn’t want to say goodbye, didn’t move away till she was out of sight.
With a sigh he began walking, asking himself why he liked her so much, why he’d fallen in love with her so quickly.
She was attractive, but not beautiful or glamorous as Pete’s ex had been. Edward grimaced. A woman devoted to looking glamorous would take a lot of living with. He liked the fact that when he kissed Beth, it was her soft skin and lips he touched, not a layer of coloured grease.
He’d teased Fran once about make-up being only ‘coloured grease’, when she’d kept them waiting to set off on a trip to a small country town where Pete was making an appearance. She’d nearly hit the roof at such sacrilege, and to listen to her, you’d think people came to see her, not Pete.
In some ways, Beth seemed old-fashioned. Or was she normal and he’d been associating with folk who lived an unreal life in the fast lane?
He passed a florist’s shop and grinned. What was more old-fashioned than sending flowers to the woman you cared about? He went in and ordered a small bunch of roses. She’d not want a lavish bunch, he was sure. But he ordered red ones. That would send the right message.