Playing With Fire Page 24

  Knowing the dismay that she felt must be written all over her face, Susan bent and fussed over the cot, adjusting the blankets, to hide it. ‘Is he well enough?’ she asked.

  ‘I forgot, you haven’t seen him lately, sure you haven’t?’ This realization made Rachel frown. ‘How come?’

  ‘Oh, you know how it is. I felt large and ungainly and didn’t fancy seeing his parents in my condition in case they thought I was flaunting myself. You know what it’s like? I didn’t want to start their tongues wagging.’>

  ‘The Robsons? Never! They’re too refined for that kind of nonsense.’

  Susan laughed aloud. ‘Now, Mam, you know there isn’t a woman on earth who can resist a bit of scandal, and I’m sure Alma Robson is no exception.’

  Her mother smiled and said, ‘I suppose you’re right.’

  ‘You can take my word for it.’

  ‘Mm. Well, Graham is doing remarkably well and can get about on sticks now. It’s like a small miracle. They say it was the shock to his nervous system that caused the paralysis, but in time he should make a complete recovery. But you must already know all this. You’ve surely heard us talking. You’ll see tonight for yourself how well he’s doing. Now take a lie down, and I’ll keep an eye on William.’

  ‘I don’t feel in the least sleepy, Mam. I’m too tensed up. I’ll connect the intercom and then come down and sort out those wonderful presents that arrived this morning from Darlington. People are too kind! Even Donald has spent far too much on William.’

  ‘Okay, if that’s what you want. I’ll put the kettle on, and we’ll have a nice wee cup of tea first.’

  Feverishly now, Susan re-examined the features of her son. As far as she could see, there was nothing to cause anyone to exclaim and say, ‘Doesn’t he resemble Graham?’ But then what was she thinking of? Why should they? They wouldn’t be looking for signs of Graham in him. After all, he was engaged to her sister. Except for Graham, that is! He would certainly be looking to see if there was any family resemblance.

  Entering her own room, she stood by the wide window and looked down on the garden. The borders were a riot of colour with May flowers, and the smooth, green lawn, mowed in opposing stripes, swept down to the newly painted summer house. Their house was set in beautiful surroundings. She could hear birds twittering in the hedgerows and a red squirrel scampered along the lower branches of the oak tree. Was she going to be forced to leave all this splendour and go back to Darlington just to avoid Graham?

  She hadn’t seen Graham since that fatal afternoon at the hospital; had made all kinds of excuses to avoid going visiting with Alison. She could imagine how he must resent her attitude towards him, but she had felt unable to face any more interrogations. Now tonight he was coming to see the baby. God grant that he would be reasonable and wouldn’t make things awkward for her. Wouldn’t make insinuations in front of the family. This was no bump any more! It was living flesh and blood; beautiful flesh and blood. Graham would be more determined than ever to lay claim to him. Given the chance, she must convince him once and for all that he wasn’t William’s father. But how? He was so stubborn.

  Everything had been working better than she had dared hope. Her father was more affable towards her since the birth, and positively doted on his grandson, bastard or not. Her boss was saying that her position would be open for her so long as she didn’t delay too long. The knowledge that she would be in a position to give her son a good life had gladdened her heart. At last she could see some kind of a future before her. A light at the end of the tunnel, so to say. She wasn’t going to let Graham spoil her dream!

  Her mother’s voice reached her, bringing her out of her reverie. A last look at the sleeping child and she descended the stairs and joined Rachel in the kitchen.

  ‘What kept you? Is William all right?’

  ‘Yes. He’s in a sound sleep. I just couldn’t tear myself away.’

  ‘I don’t blame you. We’ll have to start advertising for someone to help me look after him when you return to work.’

  ‘Mam, there’s plenty of time yet. I’ve another few months before I go back,’ Susan exclaimed, a laugh in her voice.

  ‘You may well laugh, girl, but not just anybody will do, you know. For a start they’ll have to have good references, and those ones won’t be hanging around waiting for you to advertise for their services. So the sooner we start looking, the better.’

  ‘I suppose you’re right,’ Susan readily agreed. ‘But let’s wait another few weeks, eh, love?’

  Susan stood beside her mother and looked from the window of the lounge as Graham’s father assisted him from the car, watched anxiously from the back seat by his mother. He looked much better. In the six weeks or so since she had last seen him, he had put some weight back on and his face had lost its grey pallor. His father made to help him up the steps to the house, but Graham shrugged him aside and manoeuvred up the steps slowly and deliberately, but quite capably on his own, with the aid of his walking sticks. Alison stood waiting at the door for him, patiently curbing the urge to go and put a supporting arm around his waist to help him. His father declined her invitation for him and his wife to come inside. They were going to a business dinner, he explained, and would pick Graham up at about eleven o’clock.

  Slipping an arm through Graham’s, Alison tenderly led him slowly into the lounge. Trevor was on his feet at once and, offering his hand to Graham, exclaimed, ‘Welcome, son. It’s great to see you back on your feet again.’>

  When Alison would have guided him to the nearest chair, Graham resisted her efforts and, shrugging off her hand, walked slowly and obviously in some pain across the lounge to where Rachel and Susan hovered over the cradle. The reproachful look he cast in Susan’s direction as he leant painfully over to gaze on the baby was not lost on Alison and she was quick to come to her sister’s defence. ‘Now, Graham, as I explained, Susan has been very busy, and with that little rascal coming early, she hadn’t time to visit you. Anyway, she’s under no obligation to you. So don’t start giving off to her.’

  Her words were lost on him. He was gazing avidly at the sleeping child. With his free hand he gently touched the soft pink cheek. ‘He’s beautiful.’ He raised his head and met Susan’s eyes. ‘Congratulations, Susan.’

  The emotion that gripped Susan as Graham looked on his son for the first time took her unawares. The enormity of what she was doing suddenly struck her and a great ball of pain gathered in her throat, threatening to choke her. She was depriving this man of the right to his son and heir. But what else could she do? It was out of her hands. If only things had been different, she silently lamented. If only Alison wasn’t involved. But her sister must at all costs be shielded from their terrible betrayal. Swallowing the lump in her throat with difficulty, she mumbled, ‘Thank you.’

  Something of the anguish she was feeling must have been reflected in her face because his eyes clung to hers pleadingly. The silence stretched and, to her relief, Alison broke it. ‘We all agree with you on that score, Graham. He is beautiful,’ she said fondly. She put a hand gently on his arm to help him towards the settee. When he would have resisted, she insisted softly, ‘Shouldn’t you sit down, Graham? You mustn’t overdo it. You know what the doctors said about doing too much too soon. Why take unnecessary risks?’

  He waved her away. ‘I’m all right.’ His eyes once again met Susan’s and saw the anguish there. With a sigh he allowed Alison to help him.

  Once settled in an upright posture with cushions supporting his back, he said, ‘You’re looking well, Susan.’

  ‘I feel great. Just tire easily. You’re looking much better yourself. It’s wonderful to see you walking again. Can I get you a cup of tea or coffee? Or a drink?’

  ‘A cup of coffee would be most welcome, thank you. And yes, I should be running about in no time.’

  ‘That’s if you do as you’re told,’ Alison warned. ‘I’ll make the coffee,’ she volunteered and left the room.

  ‘Whil
e you and Graham catch up on each other’s gossip, I’ll prepare some snacks - nothing too heavy,’ Rachel said. ‘Trevor, will you give me a hand and then see to the drinks for later on?’

  He followed his wife from the room and Graham gave a rueful smile. It couldn’t have worked out better if he had planned it. He and Susan were alone.

  He patted the settee. ‘Come and talk to me, Susan.’

  Afraid to antagonise him, she reluctantly crossed the room and sat down.

  His eyes scanned her face, taking in the bloom of luminous skin, the shining hair and worried eyes. No one would ever guess she had just had a child. He longed to reach for her but managed to control the impulse. ‘Motherhood certainly agrees with you, Susan.’

  ‘Thank you. Graham, I apologise for not visiting you at home but you wouldn’t listen to reason and you’re so wrong. So very wrong,’ she stressed. ‘I didn’t want you giving everybody the wrong idea.’

  ‘Am I wrong, Susan? Do you know what I think? I think you were afraid to come, in case the truth would leak out.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Am I right?’

  She closed her eyes tightly and raised her face towards the ceiling in frustration. ‘No, you’re not right! Oh, Graham, how can I ever convince you?’

  He reached out and covered her hand with his. An involuntary thrill ran through her and her eyes shot open wide in amazement. Jerking her hand away, she whispered, ‘Don’t do that!’

  A triumphant smile lit his face. ‘You see? You have feelings for me after all.’

  ‘That’s where you’re wrong! To me, you’re just my sister’s fiancé. Nothing else!’

  He spread his hands wide. ‘Seeing is believing.’

  Desperate now, she beseeched him. ‘Don’t do this, Graham. Don’t spoil things for me. Don’t drive me across the water again. Much as I like Darlington, I want to stay here.’

  Fear plucked at his heart. Would she really run away again? Surely not. Still, he couldn’t resist the temptation to find out the truth. He had to take the chance of maybe driving her away for ever. ‘Susan, I can’t just stand by and watch you ruin all our lives.’

  A tear spilled over and ran down her cheek. Brushing it angrily away with the back of her hand, she whispered, ‘You’re being very foolish. My sister is a lovely girl. You should be delighted that she’s going to marry you.’

  ‘I know that! And God knows I wouldn’t hurt her for the world, but it’s you I want. Why can’t you listen to reason? We could get this all sorted out. The scandal would be short-lived and then we could get on with our lives.’

  Despair gripped her. So much for convincing him. He was as obstinate as ever. And could she blame him? To her great relief, William started to whimper and, glad of the respite, she rose eagerly to her feet. Graham reached out and gripped her arm. ‘This isn’t over, Susan. Not by any means. We must talk.’

  Knocking his hand aside, she crossed the floor and lifted the child. ‘He’s hungry. I’ll have to give him a feed.’ Without another glance in Graham’s direction she left the room.

  As William nuzzled contentedly at her breast, Susan tried to analyse the effect Graham’s touch had had on her. She had been amazed at the thrill of pleasure that had shot through her; had been taken completely unaware and been unable to hide her reaction from him. He had been surprised too, and how he had gloated! God, what a mess she was in. She would have to do something drastic, to put a stop to all this nonsense. She would confess that she intended seeing Jim Brady again, with marriage in mind. Not that she really thought marriage would be in his mind, but one never knew.

  A large bouquet had been delivered to the hospital the day after William’s birth, from Jim. How he had known, Susan had yet to find out. Probably through Ruth, whom she had been meeting every Wednesday in town on her day off from the supermarket where she worked.

  Ruth had proved a staunch friend. As soon as she heard that Susan was back home she had phoned to make arrangements to see her. They met in the city centre and at that first meeting, when Ruth saw her condition, she wept openly in sympathy with her.

  ‘Ah, Susan, Susan, my heart goes out to you.’

  Susan shrugged and admitted, ‘I’ve been foolish, but I’m not the first and I certainly won’t be the last.’

  ‘Ah, Susan. And to think I believed Jim Brady when he denied all knowledge of it,’ she cried indignantly. ‘I really did!’

  Susan shook her head in frustration. ‘For heaven’s sake don’t you start.’

  Ruth’s eyes scanned her face, ‘You mean it isn’t his?’

  ‘That’s exactly what I mean.’

  Susan had watched different expressions flit across her friend’s face and could imagine the trend that her thoughts would take. She would be thinking back over the time after Jim and she had split up; would be trying to fit another face in the frame. Unsuccessfully, of course.

  At last Ruth smiled ruefully. ‘But . . . I don’t understand. Who else was there?’ she asked in confusion.

  ‘Believe me, you wouldn’t want to know,’ Susan assured her.

  ‘You’re wrong! I do want to know. Every single gory detail.’

  Linking her arm through her friend’s, Susan said firmly, ‘Well, you’re not going to. So let’s find somewhere we can have a coffee and you can tell me all your gossip.’>

  Ruth brought her up to date on all their friends and acquaintances. She shyly admitted that she was in love with Dougie and was hoping he felt the same and would ask her to marry him. A twinge of jealousy plucked at Susan’s heartstrings at this news. Why had she been so foolish?

  During the following weeks Ruth had tried to wheedle the father’s name out of her friend, but eventually gave up in despair. She kept Susan up to date on all the gossip and casually mentioned that Jim Brady was on the scene again, but didn’t seem interested in any one particular girl. Eventually Susan confided in her that Jim had asked her to marry him. Round-eyed with wonder, Ruth hung breathlessly on her every word. Susan told her of running into Jim in the Ulster Milk Bar, and of how the table had hidden her condition and he had proposed marriage. She made a big joke of how, later, when she gave into his pleas and met him to go to the pictures, he apparently changed his mind when he saw her big bump.

  Ruth listened in silence to all these disclosures, tears in her eyes at the futility of it all. ‘Ah, Susan. I’m so sorry. Why on earth didn’t he ask you to marry him before?’

  ‘There were family problems.’ She shrugged. ‘Or, who knows, perhaps it wasn’t meant to be.’

  They sat sipping their coffee, pursuing their own lines of thought, and then Ruth asked, ‘How did your dad take all this?’

  ‘Can’t you imagine?’

  With a grimace, Ruth said, ‘Yes, I think so, but obviously he’s come round or you wouldn’t still be living at home. How is he now?’

  ‘Not too bad. He thinks I’ve made a complete mess of my life.’

  ‘You can’t blame him for that,’ Ruth said softly. ‘Mm?’

  ‘I know. You’re right of course. Still, these things happen, but life goes on. I’ll work something out.’ Suddenly she bent over, clasping her stomach in obvious pain. ‘Ouch! That was a funny sensation,’ she gasped.

  Ruth panicked. Rising to her feet, she shrieked, ‘What will I do, Susan? Shall I call an ambulance?’

  ‘Believe me, Ruth, even if it is starting, it will be a long time before anything really happens. Besides, I’m not due yet, I’ve weeks to go. Sit down and finish your coffee.’

  Reluctantly Ruth sat down, anxious eyes fixed on Susan’s face. When another pain gripped her friend and could not be ignored, she was on her feet again instantly. ‘No buts about it! I’m phoning for the ambulance now.’

  ‘No! Hold on a minute.’ When the pain had subsided, digging into her handbag Susan brought out an address book. ‘Here, look for my dad’s office number and ring him. He’ll come and fetch me.’

  Fifteen minutes later she was on her way to the Royal Maternity Hospital. Ten long
, torturous hours later, her son was delivered into the world.

  Alone in the lounge, Graham rested his head back against the top of the settee and, closing his eyes, tried to recapture and put a name to the expression he’d caught on Susan’s face as he looked at the baby. Pity? Compassion? But it had been too fleeting and had eluded him. However, her reaction to his touch hadn’t been so elusive. It had been both startling and satisfying, and had filled him with great joy. Surely she must care to react like that?

  Rachel wheeled a trolley into the room and Alison followed her, carrying a tray laden with a large coffee pot, teapot, sugar bowl and milk jug. Seeing the expression on his face she asked, ‘What are you looking so pleased about?’

  ‘Am I?’

  ‘Yes. You’re like the proverbial Cheshire cat with that big, foolish grin on your face. I suppose it’s William. He has that effect on everybody. One does tend to smile inanely when he’s about.’ She peered into the empty cradle. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘He was crying . . .’

  ‘Never,’ Alison interrupted him teasingly. ‘Our William never cries.’>

  His grin widened. ‘Well, whinging a little then, and Susan took him away to feed him.’

  ‘Mm, yes, maybe a little whinge.’ She poured him a cup of coffee and smiled tenderly as she handed it to him. Rachel asked him what he would like from the selection on the trolley.

  ‘He really is a lovely baby, isn’t he?’ she said as she put the sandwich he asked for on a plate and handed it to him.

  Graham readily agreed and did a bit of probing. ‘Doesn’t anyone know who the father is?’ he asked tentatively.

  Regretfully Rachel shook her head. ‘No. Whoever he is, he’s a fool. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.’

  ‘Perhaps he doesn’t know he has a son?’ Graham suggested.