Sinful Nights (45 page)

‘You should know by now that I’m not going to pounce on you, Claire.’

Her face flushed. ‘I know that.’

‘Then why the so-obvious retreat?’

‘Perhaps I’m just one of those people who likes a lot of personal space.’

‘Maybe, but you must have allowed it to be invaded at one time,’ he retorted, glancing meaningfully at Lucy, just in case she should be unaware of what he was saying.

Claire gnawed nervously at her bottom lip, wondering what on earth she could say, but to her surprise, Jay made a sound of wry self-disgust and apologised quietly,

‘I’m sorry. It’s been a hell of a fortnight, and the delay in landing didn’t help matters. That doesn’t excuse me taking my frustrations out on you, I know. It’s good to come home and find you here, Claire,’ he added slowly, totally confounding her.

‘I … we really ought to be leaving.’ She placed his meal in front of him, avoiding his eyes. ‘It’s getting late …’

‘You’re not walking back on a night like this. I’ll run you there after I’ve eaten.’

To drag him out again on a night like tonight, when he was plainly so tired, was the last thing Claire wanted,
but she sensed that to argue would only harden his determination.

‘I’ll make you some coffee,’ she suggested instead.

‘You know, delicious though this is, it’s a little bit off-putting to eat it all alone. Next time, why don’t we all eat together?’

Taken thoroughly off guard by his statement, Claire stared at him. She had scrupulously avoided doing anything that might even hint at any degree of intimacy between them, and for him to suggest that they all ate together, almost as though they were a family unit …

To save herself from pursuing her thoughts any further she said quickly, ‘I don’t like letting the girls eat in here. Everything’s so spotless,’ she told him, seeing his uncomprehending frown. ‘I’m always afraid they’ll make a mess.’

She saw his attention focus on the kitchen and sweep round it, as though he were seeing it properly for the first time.

‘Susie was responsible for all the decorating and the furniture.’

‘It’s very sophisticated and luxurious,’ Claire hurried to say, hating the thought of him thinking she was criticising his ex-wife, ‘but …’

‘But it’s also sterile and clinical,’ he supplied for her in a clipped voice, surprising her with his perception. ‘Unlike your cottage, it isn’t a home, is it?’

She bit her lip, unable to look at him.

‘It’s the woman who makes a place a home, not the furnishings …’

He pushed his plate away suddenly, and Claire wondered
if he was thinking of his ex-wife. Despite his claim that he no longer loved her, did he perhaps miss her more than he allowed anyone to know?

It was just gone eight o’clock when Jay drove away from Whitegates. The two girls were in the back of the car, Claire sitting in the front next to him.

She thought as they drove down the village street that there seemed to be a good deal more activity than was usual, but it was only when they turned the corner that Claire saw why, and then all she could do was to sit motionless in shock and stare out of the car window.

One of the huge elms had lost a heavy main branch during the storm. It had crashed across the road and smashed down on the house opposite—her house, Claire acknowledged in shocked comprehension. She couldn’t speak; she couldn’t do anything but lift appalled eyes to Jay’s grim face. Why was he looking like that? An expression of shocked disbelief in his eyes that was surely far too intense, bearing in mind the very casual nature of their acquaintanceship. And then it hit her—Heather could have been in there with Lucy and herself; Heather could have been asleep in that front bedroom where she could now see a gaping hole in the wall.

‘I …’ Hardly aware of what she was doing, Claire struggled to open the car door. A crowd of people were standing outside the house staring up at it.

‘You stay here.’ Jay’s hand on her arm held her rigid in her seat, his voice unusually harsh. ‘I’ll deal with it. You look after the girls.’

She wanted to protest that it wasn’t his problem, that
somehow she would cope alone as she had coped with so many other things, but she wasn’t given the opportunity to say anything. He was out of the car and shouldering his way through the massed crowd before she could open her mouth.

He was only gone for ten minutes. Claire could see him in conversation with another man. Both of them glanced up at the house from time to time as they spoke.

Slowly the reality of what had happened was seeping into her. That was
her
home with the gaping holes in the roof and front wall where the heavy branch had crashed through. Her house … her home … She started to shake with shock; silly, really unimportant things, such as the fact that she had only just done the ironing and everything would now need washing again, preventing her from taking in the full enormity of what had happened.

It took Lucy’s anxious, ‘Mummy … where are we going to live?’ to alert her to it and then she could think of no answer to give her daughter. Her thoughts ran round a round in frantic circles as she tried to grapple with the shock of what had happened. Perhaps Mrs Vickers would put them up. Thank God they hadn’t been inside when the branch had fallen …

Jay came back and slid into the car beside her.

Claire struggled with her seat belt.

‘I must go and ask Mrs Vickers if we can stay the night with her. I … I must go inside and find our clothes, I …’

‘For God’s sake, you’re not going anywhere. The house is unsafe!’ Jay told her grimly, his voice so angry
that she actually focused her eyes on him, unaware of how vulnerable and young she looked in her jeans and sweater, her hair curling wildly round her small face.

‘I’ve just been talking to someone from the council. He says the house is unsafe. You can’t go back inside.’

‘But our clothes. My …’

‘Damn your clothes!’

She hadn’t heard him swear before, and the violence in this voice shocked her. In the darkness of the car her eyes widened, her body shaking suddenly with the drenching onset of reality.

‘You’re coming back with me,’ Jay told her flatly. ‘There’s plenty of room at Whitegates.’

‘Mrs Vickers …’

‘For God’s sake, Claire!’ he exploded tensely. ‘Why are you always so damned independent? You hate me doing the slightest thing for you. You didn’t even want me to run you home tonight, did you? Did you?’

How could she explain to him that she hated being reliant on anyone? Suddenly it all seemed too much; she could feel the tremors of reaction building up inside her. She wanted to cry, but she couldn’t let herself, not in front of Jay and the girls.

‘You’ve done me enough favours,’ he reminded her grimly. ‘Surely I’m allowed to do you one small one in return? You and Lucy will stay at Whitegates tonight, and every night until your own home has been repaired.’

‘That could take weeks,’ protested Claire, her eyes darkening bleakly as she looked back at her small house.

‘The council are going to put some men in to make sure it’s safe; when they have we can come back down
and collect your things. You realise that the council won’t pay for the repairs, don’t you even though the tree is on council-owned land?’

She hadn’t thought that far ahead yet, and she looked at him blankly. Her mind seemed to be working very slowly.

‘But surely my own insurance …’

For some reason Jay’s mouth compressed grimly.

‘Maybe,’ he agreed at last, ‘but most insurance companies class something like this as an “Act of God”.’

When he saw that she was looking uncomprehendingly at him, he explained tersely,

‘It isn’t one of the risks they cover—they won’t pay out under the policy. You’ll have to find the money for the repairs yourself.’

Claire had too much pride to let him see what she was feeling. She turned her face away, so that he wouldn’t see her shock. If the insurance company wouldn’t pay out, what on earth was she going to do? How could she possibly afford to pay for the restoration work herself? A terrible, icy sense of fear engulfed her. A vision of the cramped council flat she and Lucy had lived in before they moved to the cottage rose up in front of her and wouldn’t go away. She couldn’t go back to that, not now that she had had a taste of the pleasure that life could be in attractive surroundings. Fate couldn’t be so cruel, surely?

Jay had set the car in motion, but she was barely aware of it. If only tomorrow wasn’t a Saturday. It would be Monday before she could get in touch with the insurance company, before she would know where she stood.
Surely Jay was wrong? The house must be covered for this kind of accidental damage.

Round and round her thoughts went in a feverish dance that took her no further forward and did nothing to alleviate the horrendous sense of oppression hanging over her.

‘I
EXPECT YOU
’
LL WANT TO
go down to the village and look at the cottage. I’ll run you down there if you like.’

All four of them were having breakfast in the grey and white kitchen, which now looked lamentably untidy.

Claire had barely slept at all last night and breakfast was the very last thing she had wanted, but nothing seemed to impair Lucy’s appetite, and she owed it to Jay to at least make some attempt to repay his hospitality. And anyway, it helped to keep busy.

‘There’s no need. I don’t mind walking.’

‘No, I’m sure you don’t,’ Jay’s voice was dry, ‘but you’re going to want to collect some clothes for yourself and Lucy, and you can hardly carry them back with you.’

She wanted to protest that there was no need for him to involve himself in her affairs in this way, but the words stuck in her throat. She still couldn’t totally comprehend what had happened. Last night in the bustle of making up beds for herself and Lucy, and getting both girls settled for the night, there hadn’t been time to dwell on what had happened. Later, alone in bed, in the austere off-white bedroom Jay had suggested she
use, there had been too much time, too many worries crowding into her mind for her to be able to sort things out into any sort of order.

As she sipped her coffee she stared out of the kitchen window. The sky was a perfect pale blue, the sun palely gold; last night’s gale had died out and it was hard to look at the beautiful perfection of the crisp autumn day outside and remember what last night had been. Part of her stubbornly wanted to pretend that it hadn’t happened at all.

‘Mummy, can we go and play outside?’

Nothing seemed to daunt Lucy. This morning her daughter was her normal cheerful self, but Lucy didn’t realise, as she did, exactly what effect that falling branch was likely to have on her life. Every time she thought about the future she could feel the panicky, helpless feeling swirl through her. She put down her coffee, knowing that her hand was trembling.

‘Yes, yes, but put your wellingtons on, and no going outside the garden.’

Her response was automatic, her eyes barely even focusing on the two small jean-clad figures as they opened the back door.

As soon as they had gone she stood up. The intimacy of the kitchen with only Jay and herself in it made her feel uncomfortable. ‘I …’

‘Sit down.’

His voice was harsh, and she obeyed it automatically, looking at him with shocked, bewildered eyes as he poured her a fresh cup of coffee and brought it over to her.

‘You’ve had a bad shock,’ he told her curtly, ‘and
you’re feeling the effects of it. It happens to all of us at times.’

‘I’m all right.’ Her lips pressed tightly together, panic surging through her at the thought that he was aware of her weakness.

‘For God’s sake, what is it about you that won’t allow you to turn to anyone for help? Independence is fine, Claire, but there is such a thing as taking it to extremes, or is it just
me?
Is it the thought of
me
helping you that makes you react like this?’

‘I …’ Her throat seemed to have seized up. She swallowed and managed to say painfully, ‘I don’t like being beholden to anyone.’

‘I don’t believe I’m hearing this! Beholden? It’s positively Biblical! I’m the one who’s
beholden
to you, Claire, not the other way round. When I brought you back here last night, I felt as thought I were dragging you here against your will; every time I come within arm’s length of you, you cringe away as though you think I’m about to commit rape!’

He stopped when he saw her face. Coming on top of everything else it was too much. She started to shake so violently that she spilled her coffee.

‘What is it? What did I say?’

Jay took the cup from her, careful not to get too close to her, but she was barely aware of him.

‘Claire, what is it? Surely you don’t think I’d hurt you in some way, do you?’

She shook her head.

‘Then what is it?’ He frowned. ‘Lucy’s father?’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Is it your husband, did he …’

She felt the bubble of hysterical laughter well up inside her like a painful lump.

‘There was no husband … I was never married … Lucy … I was raped on my way home from school when I was eighteen. My parents had just died … I was still living in the house. I never saw his face; he came up behind me and knocked me out. When I came round I was in his car. I tried to stop him, but he …’ She shuddered tensely, trying to stop the memories coming back. ‘Afterwards he pushed me out of the car and drove off …’

‘Oh my God! The police?’

‘I never told them. I couldn’t tell anyone. Only the doctor when I realised I was pregnant …’

‘I would never have guessed. You love Lucy so much.’

‘I didn’t know if I would, not until she was born. But it wasn’t her fault.’

‘And that’s why you don’t want a husband, is it, Claire—because of what happened?’

‘I don’t like men coming anywhere near me. I don’t want any sort of intimate relationship with them. I can’t explain it, I.’ Claire shook her head, trying to dispel her disturbing memories.

‘You don’t need to,’ Jay told her curtly. ‘I’m not totally devoid of imagination.’

‘I don’t think I can bear it if I lose the cottage. Before we came here Lucy and I had a council flat …’ She shuddered again, suddenly feeling intensely cold. What on earth had prompted her to break down like that? She had never, ever confided to anyone other than her doctor the true circumstances surrounding Lucy’s conception. She had never wanted to tell anyone before. The
events of that night were something she thought she had locked safely away.