‘Really, there’s no need for you to give me a lift,’ she said shortly, and saw Clara looking puzzled at her tone. ‘I’m quite capable of walking, and anyway, the tube is much quicker than sitting in traffic. Thank you for the offer, but we really should go. Come along, Clara.’
Sadly, her attempt at a dignified exit was ruined by the way her ankle buckled the moment she tried to take a step.
‘Mum, you can’t walk,’ cried Clara, obviously exasperated by her mother’s stubbornness. ‘Don’t be silly!’
‘Clara’s right,’ said P.J., and gave Nell a smile that made her heart do an alarming somersault. ‘You always used to be so sensible, Nell. Don’t tell me you’ve changed that much!’
‘You have,’ she said without thinking.
‘I’m sixteen years older and wearing a suit,’ he acknowledged, ‘but otherwise I’m just the same. I’m not suggesting you get into a car with a stranger. We used to be friends.’
And lovers …
The unspoken words hung in the air, and for Nell it was like a series of pictures flicking through her mind. P.J. reaching confidently for her hand, smiling as he drew her towards him. Lying by the river in the long, sweet grass, drowsy with sunshine, feeling the tickle of a feather on her nose, opening her eyes to see him leaning above her with that wicked grin. P.J. turning up at her door, half hidden behind a huge bunch of roses, when she passed her finals; holding her as she wept and wept for a lost dog.
‘Come on, Nell,’ he said with a smile that told her he remembered just as much as she did. ‘Get in the car and stop being silly like Clara says!’
Clara giggled and hugged Nell, evidently taking it for granted that the matter was now decided. ‘Bye, Mum. See you tonight.’ She turned brightly to her new ally. ‘Bye, P.J. Don’t let Mum do anything she shouldn’t!’
‘Goodbye, Clara.’ He grinned. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll look after her.’
Nell shook her head ruefully as her daughter ran off, school bag bumping against her back. ‘That girl …!’
‘She’s great,’ said P.J. ‘I like children with personality.’
‘She’s got that all right,’ said Nell with feeling.
‘Well, she’s issued her instructions, and I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes if she finds out that you haven’t done as you were told!’ He held open the passenger door. ‘Come on, in you get.’
It would be ridiculous to refuse now, and she could hardly run off with her ankle like this. With the distinct feeling that she was being managed, and not at all sure that she liked it, Nell limped over to the car and got in. Turning with a little difficulty, she smiled a hello at the children in the back.
‘Jake, Emily and Flora,’ said P.J., pointing affectionately at each one. ‘Kids, this lady I almost knocked over is an old friend of mine, Nell Martindale.’
It was odd hearing her maiden name again. ‘Nell Shea now,’ she reminded him.
‘Of course. Sorry.’
P.J. switched on the engine abruptly. He had forgotten Simon Shea there for a moment. Of course Nell had taken his name. She had been besotted with him. Stupid to think she would have changed it back.
‘We’re divorced, but I kept Shea so that I’d have the same surname as Clara,’ she said, almost as if she could read his mind.
‘Oh. Sure.’
P.J. felt a bit better for some reason. He checked the mirror and pulled out into the heavy traffic as Nell engaged the children in conversation, discovering that they were nine, seven, and five and a quarter respectively, that they didn’t mind school but that they all hated Mrs Tarbuck, who shouted at them if they were naughty.
Nell had always been good with children, he remembered, and had longed to have a baby of her own. He was the one who had resisted the idea, thinking that they were too young and that there would be plenty of time to start a family. More fool him, he thought bitterly. While he had still been hesitating, Simon Shea had swept Nell off her feet with his easy promises.
P.J. was a quick learner. After that, he had seized every opportunity that had come his way. It had led to astonishing success and wealth beyond anything he had ever been able to imagine, but somehow none of it had ever quite compensated for the bitterness of that first hard lesson.
In the back seat, the children were still chatting happily to Nell about the contents of their lunch boxes.
‘It sounds yummy,’ said Nell, thinking what engaging children they were. They didn’t look exactly like P.J., but there was a definite family resemblance and Jake, the boy, had the same alert blue eyes. Would their children have looked like this if they had married? she wondered a little wistfully.
‘But I don’t like banana,’ little Flora was grumbling, sticking out her lower lip. ‘Mummy always makes me have one. She says I have to have a bit of fruit, but I don’t see why I should.’
‘I’m afraid I make Clara have fruit every day, too,’ Nell confessed to Flora’s disgust. She might not like the idea of P.J. having a wife, but on some things mothers had to stick together.
‘Here we are.’ P.J. pulled up outside the school and opened his door to get out. ‘Out you get.’
The three children scrambled out of the back seat and he stooped, giving the girls a kiss and Jake an affectionate tweak on the nose, and then they were gone, running into school with their friends.
‘They’ve forgotten us already,’ he said wryly to Nell as he got back into the car, and she nodded, grasping at the chance to fill up this first moment when they were alone with polite chit-chat.
‘Clara’s like that. The moment she meets up with her friends, she’s completely absorbed in their own world. I’m sure she never gives me a thought when she’s with them.’
P.J. sent her a sidelong glance. ‘You should be pleased that she’s not clinging to you. You want your child to grow up well balanced and independent, don’t you?’
‘Of course, but sometimes it’s a little hard when you spend your whole life thinking about them and you realise it’s all one way.’
‘That’s your job as a parent, isn’t it?’ he said with a lopsided smile. ‘And Clara’s the kind of child who’ll go far. She’s got charm in spades.’
‘When she wants to use it,’ said Nell in a dry voice. ‘She’s like her father that way,’ she added without thinking.
‘Ah, yes, Simon,’ said P.J. evenly. ‘How is he?’
‘He’s well. He’s got a new wife and a new family now, though, and I don’t see much of him.’
‘Janey told me that you were divorced,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry. It must have been hard for you. I know how much you loved him.’
Had she loved Simon, or had she just been carried away by an illusion? Nell wondered. It was hard to remember now.
‘You were right,’ she said abruptly.
‘I was right?’ P.J. glanced at her in surprise. ‘What about?’
‘You said that Simon didn’t really know me, so he couldn’t really love me. You said I didn’t really know him, so I couldn’t trust him. You said he’d break my heart and leave me … and he did.’ Nell’s smile was twisted. ‘I think you’re fully entitled to say “I told you so!”’
‘Nell …’ P.J. wished he could say something to help, but he couldn’t think of anything. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said at last, quite simply. ‘I shouldn’t have said those things to you. I was just lashing out because I was raw and bitter. I suppose I wanted to hurt you because you’d hurt me, but I swear I never wanted to be proved right.’
‘I know. I’m sorry, too,’ said Nell quietly. ‘I never wanted to hurt you, P.J., but I know that I did.’
‘Hey, I survived.’ The corner of P.J.’s mouth turned up in his crooked smile as he tried to lighten the atmosphere, and Nell found herself remembering with piercing clarity exactly what his lips had felt like against her skin. Shivering a little, she turned away.
‘I can’t say I thought so at the time,’ he admitted, hoping to take some of the sadness from her expression, ‘but it didn’t take long for me to realise that it was all for the best.’ He hated the thought that she had spent years feeling guilty about the way their relationship had ended. She had had enough to bear without that.
‘Oh?’ Nell kept her eyes on the car ahead as they inched towards a busy junction. Naturally, she was pleased to know that P.J. hadn’t been heartbroken, but surely he ought to have had some regrets?
Or had he been wanting to end things himself, so that her decision had come as a huge relief? For some reason, that thought was worse than feeling guilty about the way she had hurt him.