Penny Jordan Tribute Collection

‘I’m not going back—not on my own, not without you,’ Mary-Beth insisted.

‘Mary-Beth, I’ve already explained why I can’t come with you,’ Brad told her firmly. ‘I have commitments here.’

‘Maybe, but they aren’t as important as your commitment to your family; they can’t be, Brad,’ Mary-Beth told him quickly. ‘You know the uncles will understand. I need you.’

Claire could see that Brad was frowning.

‘Mary-Beth, I can’t.’

‘Then I’m not going back,’ she told him determinedly. ‘Not on my own.’

‘Abe—’ Brad began, but Mary-Beth refused to listen.

‘I don’t want to talk about him, or to him.’

‘You have to talk,’ Brad told her quietly. ‘For the kids’ sake, if nothing else. He is still their father and he does have certain rights—’

‘He has no rights. He lost those the day he started fooling around with that—that…’ Mary-Beth had started to protest bitterly but Brad shook his head warningly as Tara looked at her mother in anxious concern. ‘If you want me to talk to him then you’re going to have to be there too,’ Mary-Beth insisted.

Claire could see that Brad wasn’t too pleased about his sister’s demands.

‘There’s no way I want to so much as see him again after what he’s done…’ she announced.

It was plain to Claire that Brad’s sister’s temperament was as tempestuous and fiery as her dark red hair suggested, and there was no doubt also that she was deeply hurt by her husband’s infidelity. Beneath her very obvious anger Claire could see the misery and pain in her eyes.

‘You said Abe denied being involved with anyone else,’ Brad was reminding her. ‘He said—’

‘He would say that, wouldn’t he?’ Mary-Beth derided bitterly. ‘He knows what he stands to lose. Oh, Brad, how could he… I thought he loved me… us…’

Tears welled up in her eyes and Tara, seeing her mother’s distress, started to cry noisily in sympathy.

‘Would you like me to take the children?’ Claire offered quickly. ‘You must both still have things you need to discuss…’

‘I’ve said everything I want to say,’ Mary-Beth said fiercely. ‘I don’t care what you say, Brad; there’s no way I’m going back to him and I didn’t come all the way over here to have you make me… or to listen to you defending what he’s done. I thought you’d be more understanding… more sympathetic…’

She was crying in earnest now. Quietly Claire held out her arms to Tara, trying not to let the revealing flush of pleasure she could feel heating the pit of her stomach flood betrayingly into her face when Brad smiled at her with appreciative relief as he handed his niece over to her.

‘I want to stay with my mommy…’ Tara started to protest as Claire took hold of her, but Claire had enough experience from her work at the school to know how to deal with her apprehensive need to remain with her mother.

‘Do you?’ she said calmly. ‘Oh, dear. I was hoping you’d come downstairs with me and help me make some special bis… er… cookies. I expect you’re very good at baking, aren’t you?’ she asked.

‘Yes. I’m very good,’ Tara agreed, and then asked, ‘What kind of cookies?’

‘What kind would you like to make?’ Claire asked her. The baby had gone peacefully back to sleep, she noticed as she gently shepherded Tara out of the room.

She and Tara had almost finished their cookie-baking exercise before Mary-Beth and Brad reappeared, and during the half-hour or so that they had been together Claire had learned a good deal about her Mommy and Daddy and how much she loved them both from Tara, who had chattered happily to her as they worked together.

‘It looks like I’m going to have to go back to the States with Mary-Beth. I’ve managed to get us seats on a flight this evening,’ Brad told Claire tersely as he obeyed Tara’s demand that he come and see what she had been making.

‘I’m sorry about all this…’ he added grimly, making a small gesture that included his sister and Tara.

‘It’s all right,’ Claire assured him. ‘I’m just glad that you were able to respond so quickly to my message. I hadn’t expected you to come straight back—’

‘What message?’ Brad asked her, frowning.

Claire stared at him.

‘I rang the office to tell you about Mary-Beth, and when you weren’t there I left a message with Tim for you to ring me.’

If he hadn’t got her message then how had he known to come back? Claire wondered. But before she could say anything Mary-Beth was demanding his attention, wanting to know exactly what time their flight was and worrying about the fact that she had neglected to bring enough baby food for Abe junior with her.

‘You should have thought about that before you left,’ Brad told her sharply.

Whilst he was obviously making every attempt to sort out his sister’s problems for her, he did not appear to be as sympathetic to her plight as Claire had expected him to be, and was certainly nothing like as partisan, refusing to join Mary-Beth in condemning her husband and rather to the contrary suggesting to her that she should have discussed the situation more fully with Abe before walking out and subjecting her two small children to all the stress and bewilderment of a transatlantic flight.

Sensing that Mary-Beth was unhappy with her brother’s response, Claire quickly offered to take her to the local supermarket where she would be able to buy some branded baby food for her little boy.

‘Brad, could you take me?’ Mary-Beth appealed. ‘I just can’t think straight at the moment.’

It was only natural that Mary-Beth should want her brother with her rather than a stranger, Claire told herself firmly, and it was no doubt illogical of her to feel, on the strength of what little they had actually shared, so emotionally bereft and excluded from what was going on.

Several times since he had returned to the house Brad had looked as if he wanted to say something to her, Claire acknowledged, and it was obvious that he was none too pleased with his sister’s disruption of his life. But, in reality, what else could he do other than agree to her demands that he return home with her? Claire acknowledged.

It was plain to her, even without knowing Mary-Beth or having met her husband, that it would need all of Brad’s skilled counsel and wisdom to heal the rift in his sister’s marriage.

‘Claire,’ she heard him saying quietly, his hand touching her arm lightly, as though he wanted to draw her away from Mary-Beth and the children. As though… as though… what? Claire asked herself ruefully. As though he wanted to isolate both of them from his family, as though he wanted to have her to himself. That’s some imagination you’ve got there, she warned herself.

‘I really am sorry,’ he told her in a low voice. ‘If I thought there was any way I could persuade Mary-Beth to go home on her own—’

‘She needs you, Brad,’ Claire interrupted him gently. And so do I, her heart cried silently, but of course she couldn’t allow herself to voice such words and wouldn’t have done no matter what the circumstances; to have done so would have been immature and selfish. ‘She’s obviously very upset about… about her husband,’ Claire felt bound to add.

‘Yes.’ Brad looked rather grim. ‘She always has a tendency to flare up over nothing and I doubt that this will be any exception. Abe’s just not the type to stray from his marriage.’

‘Mary-Beth obviously doesn’t share that view,’ Claire pointed out wryly.

‘No,’ Brad agreed heavily, glancing at his sister, who was trying to soothe the children’s fretting. ‘This couldn’t have happened at a worse time…’ he began to say; his hand was still resting on her arm but now the light grip of his fingers had somehow or other become a gentle stroke.

An automatic reflex action to the feel of her skin beneath them or the tender, soundless reassurance of a lover? Claire wasn’t sure.

‘Brad,’ Mary-Beth called out impatiently, ‘you’re going to have to get to that supermarket.’

Was she imagining the regret she could see in Brad’s eyes as he released her arm and moved away from her? Claire wondered.

‘And so Brad’s gone back to America with his sister?’ Hannah asked as Claire started to unload her dishwasher.

‘Yes, that’s right,’ Claire agreed woodenly.

Hannah had come round half an hour ago, two hours after Brad and Mary-Beth had left with the children. By now, no doubt, they would be airborne and on their way back home.