The Pregnancy Affair

‘You can ask.’ Olivia was half amused.

‘Well, were you really married to Joel Armstrong?’ she ventured, and Olivia was taken aback.

‘Yes,’ she said at last, warily. ‘Why do you want to know?’

‘Oh…’ Jayne looked a little embarrassed now. ‘I just wondered. I mean, Mum said you were and I believed her. But since I’ve got to know you, you don’t seem the type to—well, play around.’

‘Play around?’ Olivia caught her breath. Was that what they’d told her?

‘Yeah, you know. There was another man, wasn’t there? Or so Mum says.’

‘There was no other man.’ Olivia spoke tersely. ‘We were just—not compatible. It didn’t work out. That’s all.’

‘Really?’ Jayne stared at her. ‘Cos, like, he’s really hot, don’t you think? Or no, I suppose you don’t. But he drives that really powerful SUV, and I think he’s, like, totally the man!’

Olivia was stunned. Did Linda know her daughter thought of Joel in this way? Obviously she didn’t share her confidences, and the last thing Olivia needed was one of his groupies on her own doorstep.

‘I think I ought to finish sorting these things,’ she said at length, not wanting to offend the girl, but not wanting to continue this conversation either. For heaven’s sake, Joel was old enough to be Jayne’s father.

‘Oh—yes.’ The girl got up from the bed now and pressed her fingers to her mouth. ‘I’ve just remembered. Grandad wants to see you.’ She pulled a face. ‘He said to say he’d like you to come down.’

Olivia didn’t know whether to be glad of the invitation or sorry. She’d been looking forward to finishing this task and then taking a bath. She’d discovered it wasn’t wise to expect to have the bathroom to herself in the mornings. Someone was always hammering on the door, asking how long she was going to be.

‘OK,’ she said now, and, seeing Jayne admiring a silk camisole, she picked it up and tossed it across the bed. Perhaps it would take her mind off other things, she thought hopefully. ‘It’s yours,’ she told her when Jayne looked up at her with disbelieving eyes. ‘If you’d like it.’

‘Would I?’ Jayne was evidently delighted, cradling the scrap of lace to her chest. ‘Thanks so much, Aunt Livvy,’ she added gratefully. ‘I’ve never worn anything as sexy as this.’

Olivia managed a faint smile at her pleasure, and, passing the girl, she opened the door and allowed her to precede her from the room. But she hoped it wouldn’t prove another black mark against her. With a bit of luck, Martin Dempsey might never find out.

Downstairs, she bypassed the dining room, where Linda and Martin were still sitting. She could hear their voices, though not what they were saying, and instead she made her way along the hall to her father’s room. She’d visited him several times in the last few days, but this was the first time she’d been on her own. Usually, either Linda or Jayne was with her, ostensibly to ensure that the old man didn’t upset her.

Tonight, however, Jayne had scurried off to her room. Probably to try on the new camisole. Which meant Olivia entered her father’s room without an escort, feeling almost conspiratorial in consequence.

He wasn’t in his chair tonight, he was in the bed across the room, and, closing the door behind her, Olivia crossed the floor. ‘Hello,’ she said, when she saw his eyes were open. ‘How are you tonight?’

‘Better for seeing you,’ he muttered, and, although his words were slurred, they were perfectly audible. ‘I see you managed to shake off your watchdog.’ He lifted his good arm and gestured for her to take the chair nearest to him. ‘Come and sit down where I can see you.’

Olivia didn’t know if he was joking about her having a watchdog, but she acknowledged that Linda and Martin did want to know where she was every minute of the day. ‘Thanks,’ she said, deciding not to take him up on it. ‘I must admit, I’ve wondered how you felt about me coming back.’

Her father frowned. ‘Because of what happened with young Armstrong?’ he demanded.

‘Well, yes.’

He nodded. ‘That was all a long time ago.’

‘You never answered any of my letters,’ she reminded him painfully. ‘According to Linda, you rarely mentioned my name.’

‘Yes, well, we all make mistakes, Liv. Mine was in not seeing you were too headstrong to take any advice from me.’

Olivia sighed. ‘If it’s any consolation, I haven’t exactly made a success of my life.’

‘No?’ Her father’s lids twitched in surprise. ‘I heard you were doing well in London. Of course, then you upped and went off to America with that man, Garvey. I gather that marriage wasn’t happy either.’

Olivia bent her head. For a moment she’d been tempted to say that her marriage to Joel Armstrong had been happy. Until she’d discovered she was pregnant, that was, and panic had set in.

She could remember well how she’d felt at that time. It wasn’t how she’d have felt now, but that was irrelevant. Then, all she could think was that they were both too young to have a baby, that they couldn’t afford another mouth to feed. She’d wanted Joel’s baby, of course she had. She’d spent hours—days—trying to find a way out of their dilemma that wouldn’t entail her losing the child. Like any other would-be mother, she’d fantasised about what it would look like, whether it would take after him. But the problems had seemed insurmountable at first. After all, they could barely support themselves.

But her father wouldn’t want to hear that. He and Joel had been on the same side and she had no intention of trying to change his mind now. So instead, she said, ‘I should never have married Bruce. I made the mistake of thinking that because he said he loved me, I’d have everything I’d ever wanted.’

‘Was he wealthy?’

Olivia shrugged. ‘I suppose so.’

‘Was that really why you married him?’

‘No.’ Olivia shook her head. ‘Believe it or not, I was lonely. I needed someone who’d care about me. He was smart and good-looking and it seemed like a good idea at the time.’

‘You were lonely?’ Her father picked up on that. ‘So why didn’t you come home?’

‘I didn’t think I’d be welcome,’ she confessed honestly. ‘And—well, I assumed Joel would still be here.’

‘He left. A couple of weeks after you went to London.’

‘Yes, I know that now. But not then.’

‘Linda kept in touch with you, didn’t she?’

‘Yes.’ But her reports were decidedly selective, Olivia thought, though she didn’t say so. ‘Anyway, it’s all in the past, as you say.’

‘So tell me about this man you married. Bruce Garvey. What went wrong? Did he treat you badly?’

‘No.’ Olivia sighed. ‘It’s a long story, Dad.’

Her father made an impatient gesture. ‘Well, I’m not going anywhere, as you can see.’

‘Why not?’ Olivia used his words to try and change the subject. ‘Don’t you have a wheelchair? Don’t you ever go outside?’

‘I don’t want a wheelchair,’ retorted the old man grumpily. ‘Bloody things. They’re for invalids. I’m not an invalid. I’m just—stuck here, that’s all.’

‘In other words, you are an invalid,’ said Olivia, without trying to be tactful. She knew her father of old. He could be totally stubborn, even at the risk of cutting off his nose to spite his face.

‘And d’ you think I want everyone to know that?’ he snapped shortly. ‘It’s all right for you, coming here and telling me what to do. I don’t want anyone to see I can hardly stand, let alone walk!’

‘I should think everyone knows that already,’ replied Olivia practically. ‘This is a small village, Dad. People know you. People care what happens to you.’

‘Yes, well, I don’t need their pity,’ said her father, mopping at the trail of saliva that trickled from the paralysed side of his mouth. ‘Nor yours, either,’ he muttered. ‘If that’s all you’ve got to say to me, you can go.’

Olivia sighed. ‘All right, all right. We won’t talk about it.’ She smoothed her palms over the knees of her trousers. ‘I didn’t come here to upset you.’ She paused. ‘Actually Jayne said you wanted to see me.’

‘Hmmph.’ The old man relaxed again. ‘Well, why wouldn’t I want to see my daughter? You’re a sight for sore eyes, and that’s a fact.’

Olivia smiled. ‘Thank you.’

‘Don’t thank me. You were always the beauty of the family. And the brains, more’s the pity!’

‘Dad!’

‘Well, you must know Linda and Martin are running the show around here while I’m—while I can’t.’ Olivia nodded, and he went on, ‘So what do you think of their bright idea?’

Olivia frowned, not at all sure she ought to ask it, but doing so anyway. ‘What bright idea?’

The door opening behind them and Linda bursting into the room drowned out any reply the old man might have made. ‘Dad!’ she exclaimed crossly. ‘And Olivia. I thought you were in your room.’ She turned back to her father. ‘You know you’re supposed to be resting. Anything you have to say to Olivia can wait until tomorrow, I’m sure.’

Olivia was up early the next morning. She’d had enough of being confined to the farm and she intended to catch the bus into Newcastle and spend the day doing some shopping. She also intended to find an agency and hire a car, though she kept that part of her plans to herself.

‘Couldn’t you get what you want in Chevingham?’ Linda exclaimed, when she heard what her sister intended to do. ‘Andy could give you a lift in the Land Rover. That would save you having to take the bus.’

‘Thanks, but I prefer to go into Newcastle,’ said Olivia politely, still feeling some resentment towards Linda for the way she’d behaved the night before. She’d acted as if Olivia had had no right to go and sit with her father. Not without clearing it with her first.

And, of course, any chance of further private conversation with him had been over. Although he’d protested, Linda had been adamant that he’d had enough visitors for one day. Olivia had only had time to squeeze his hand and tell him she’d see him later, before her sister had bustled her out of the room.

It was strange being back in the city after so many years had passed. It seemed so different, so modern, the alterations that had only been in the planning stage when she left now making the centre of town a vibrant, exciting place to visit.

She found a café and, after ordering an Americano, she took a seat in the window overlooking a shopping mall. It was a relief to be away from the farm and drinking a decent cup of coffee again. The instant brand Linda favoured was so bitter in comparison.

Revitalised, she left the café and spent some time exploring the shops. There were certainly plenty to choose from and, despite what Jayne had said, Olivia bought jeans and a couple of T-shirts, as well as a pair of combat boots to wear around the farm. The boots looked incongruous with the suede jacket and matching fringed skirt she’d worn to come to town, and she was laughing with the assistant when she looked through the shop window—straight into Joel Armstrong’s eyes.

She couldn’t help it. Her eyes widened and her breath caught somewhere in the back of her throat, so that when the assistant spoke again she found it very hard to answer her.

‘Um—yes. Yes, I’ll take them,’ she said, knowing the girl was looking at her strangely. ‘Thanks,’ she added, quickly slipping her feet into the high-heeled pumps she’d taken off to try the boots on.

She was at the counter, paying for the boots with her credit card, when she became aware that Joel had entered the shop. It wasn’t that he’d spoken to her or done anything to announce his presence; it was just a premonition she had that it was him.

It was madness but she could feel him near her, sensed the pressure of the air had changed since he came in. She wanted to turn and look at him, to ensure herself that she wasn’t mistaken. God, she was going to be so disappointed if she was wrong.

But she wasn’t wrong. When her purchase was completed and she could justifiably collect the bag containing her boots and turn around, he was there waiting for her. ‘Hi,’ he said as she crossed the shop towards him, and once again her stomach started its crazy plunge.

He looked so good, she thought helplessly. Even in a worn corded jacket with leather patches at the elbows, he looked big and dark and disturbingly familiar. His jeans hugged his legs, worn in places she knew she shouldn’t be looking. And, goodness, she shouldn’t be so glad to see him.

‘Hi,’ she answered in return, uncertain what to do next. ‘Are you looking for shoes, too?’

‘Do I look as if I need to?’ he countered humorously as they stepped outside, drawing her eyes to the scuffed deck shoes he was wearing. ‘No. You know I’m not.’ His eyes skimmed her face. ‘Are you on your own?’

Olivia nodded. ‘Are you?’

‘Until half-past two, when I’ve got to see one of my students,’ he agreed, his warm breath fanning her cheek. ‘Have you had lunch?’

Olivia swallowed. ‘No.’

‘So—d’ you want to get a sandwich with me?’

There was nothing Olivia would have liked more, but she knew getting involved with Joel again was dangerous. She’d been sure she was so over him. Now she had goose-bumps just because he’d invited her to lunch.

‘Well—I was going to see about renting a car,’ she said lamely, and knew immediately from his expression that he wasn’t fooled by her excuse.

‘In other words, you’d rather not,’ he said, lifting one shoulder dismissively. ‘OK.’ He paused. ‘Some other time, perhaps.’

‘No, wait!’ As he would have turned away, she caught his sleeve and stopped him. ‘I—I can see about renting a car after lunch. And I’ve got to eat. So—why not with you? If the offer’s still good.’

Joel regarded her consideringly, wondering if he wouldn’t be wiser to just call it a day. He still wasn’t sure why he’d asked her, why he wanted to prolong what could only be an awkward interlude in his day.

‘I get the feeling you’re just humouring me,’ he said, and her hand dropped quickly from his arm.

‘I’m not. ’Olivia’s tongue circled her dry lips. ‘I just didn’t think it through, that’s all.’ She paused, and then added huskily, ‘I didn’t want you to feel—obliged to ask me.’

‘Why would I feel that?’

He wasn’t making it easy for her, and Olivia wondered now if he had had second thoughts. ‘You know what I mean,’ she said defensively.

Joel shook his head. ‘I assume you mean because of what we once had.’ His eyes darkened. He wouldn’t let her humble him. ‘Liv, I’ve told you already, I’m long past caring what you did or didn’t do.’

Olivia wanted to scream. It wasn’t fair, she thought. She’d done nothing wrong. Did he think she had no feelings at all?

But Joel wasn’t finished. ‘If you can’t see I was only being civil,’ he declared tersely, ‘then perhaps we should just go our separate ways.’

Well, that was certainly telling her, he thought, refusing to back down. But, seeing the flush of colour that swept into her cheeks at his words, he couldn’t help wondering why he felt this need to punish her. She’d inadvertently saved him from himself, hadn’t she? He’d never have been satisfied with working at the farm permanently. And how could he have been able to afford four years at college if he’d had a wife and child to support?

‘If that’s what you want,’ she said now, and in spite of himself, Joel couldn’t let her go.

‘It’s not what I want,’ he said between clenched teeth. ‘For God’s sake, I asked you, didn’t I? I just never thought such a simple request would result in this inquisition.’

Olivia sighed. ‘I’m sorry.’

So was Joel. But not for the same reason.

‘So—where would you like to go?’ she asked, and Joel jammed his balled fists into his pockets. Bed, he thought savagely, an insane image of Olivia spread-eagled on his sheets, her silky hair draped across his pillow, suddenly front and centre in his mind. ‘It’s very busy,’ she went on. ‘Do you think you’ll have time?’

Another opportunity, but Joel didn’t take it. ‘How about buying a sandwich and eating it outdoors?’ he suggested. ‘Lots of people do that.’

‘OK.’

She was annoyingly cooperative and as they walked to the nearby sandwich bar Joel reminded himself that he’d engineered this meeting, not her. He’d be far more convincing if he behaved pleasantly. Allowing her to bug him, to make him angry, would only convince her he wasn’t as indifferent to her as he claimed.

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