Must Be Love (7 page)

My heart is filled with regret. I don’t expect them to love me like a daughter, but they could treat me with a little respect, if not for my sake, then for their son’s.

Outside, the cars have a thin film of frost on them, yet I hardly feel the cold as Alex and I walk hand in hand across the gravel towards the Barn with Lucie and Seb in front of us. Lucie persuades us to divert past the stable block where a light comes on and a horse whickers softly and puts its head over one of the stable doors, flaring its nostrils and sending wisps of condensation into the air, like a smoke-breathing dragon.

Alex pulls a packet of mints out of his trouser pocket, along with a few coins, which Lucie and Seb fight over as they spill to the ground.

I watch the horse – Liberty, she’s called – crunch on a mint and search Alex’s hand for another. He strokes her chestnut coat, which glints like polished copper. I’m aware of Alex gazing at me.

‘Sometimes I think you’re jealous,’ he says.

‘You probably spend more time with her than you do with me.’

‘You can’t be jealous of a horse.’ He chuckles, and moves closer, sliding his hand across my buttock and giving me an affectionate squeeze.

She isn’t just a horse, though, I muse. They’re a partnership, and they’ve been through hell during the past year, Liberty surviving major surgery for colic and Alex the fire at Buttercross Cottage.

‘Liberty’s almost as special to me as you are,’ Alex whispers, his teeth gleaming in the moonlight. ‘Happy?’

I nod, although my happiness is tempered by the issue of the invitation and his parents’ rudeness towards me, but I won’t talk about it now, not until the children are out of earshot. I watch Lucie cantering across the yard, holding up her dress like the reins on a bridle, and Sebastian stumbling along behind her.

‘You know we could get up really early in the morning and ride out,’ Alex goes on.

‘I’d rather stay in bed,’ I say as seductively as I can manage, my lips rubbery with alcohol and the cold.

‘Actually, so would I …’ The husky tone of Alex’s voice makes my heart beat faster, and I start wishing I’d remembered that overnight bag, but he continues, ‘Unfortunately, I think the kids will have something to say about that, though. Seb’s usually up by six.’

It turns out that Seb is a night owl as well as an early riser.

Inside, I sit on the sofa – it’s chocolate leather, very masculine and not to my taste at all – in front of the dancing flames of the open fire, and under the beams that crisscross the vaulted roof of the Barn, while Alex puts Seb to bed upstairs in the smallest of the three bedrooms, which opens out onto a balcony above. I can hear his low murmur drifting in and out of my consciousness, reminding me of how I used to read stories to my brother when my mother was out at work.

An hour later, Alex returns with dark shadows under his eyes, his cheeks shaded with stubble and his shoulders slumped with exhaustion.

‘If Bob the Builder should meet with an industrial accident right now, I’d be more than happy,’ he says.

‘Is he asleep?’ I shift over to let Alex sit down beside me. As soon as he’s settled, the length of his thigh against mine, his arms around me, our lips about to touch, something vibrates in his pocket – and no, it isn’t what you’re thinking.

Alex pulls out his mobile and switches it on to loudspeaker.

‘Alexander, is that you?’

‘Course it’s me, Mother.’

‘You sound breathless,’ she says, sounding affronted. ‘Are you all right? Is Madge still with you?’

He swears under his breath. I start giggling, I can’t help it.

‘Can’t Father go?’

‘He isn’t so good.’

‘He was fine earlier.’

‘He’s overdone it. Won’t admit it, of course. Anyway, it’s one of Delphi’s and she’s asked for you.’

I don’t believe Sophia. She’s doing this deliberately, determined to drive a wedge between me and her son. Well, it won’t work.

‘It’s the horse you saw on Christmas Eve,’ Sophia goes on. ‘Delphi looked in on it after the party and it’s taken a turn for the worse.’

‘Tell her I’m on my way,’ Alex says, cutting the call. ‘I’m sorry, darling.’ He kisses my cheek and drags himself away. ‘Duty calls.’

It crosses my mind after he’s gone that I might have gone with him. Sophia could have looked after Seb and Lucie. However, when I glance down at my legs, sheathed in dark silk, I realise I’m not exactly dressed for the occasion. Instead, I wait for Alex on the sofa, tucked up in the faux-fur throw I stole from his bed. I can’t sleep for thinking of him, of him and Delphi Letherington alone together in a stable in a deep bed of straw … I give myself a mental slap. I’m tired, a little drunk and my mind is playing tricks on me.

I must have fallen asleep eventually, because I’m woken the same morning, not by Alex or the children, but with a bang. (I should be so lucky!) I jump up, and run upstairs to grab Alex’s robe so I can cover up before I look out of the window.

Old Fox-Gifford is standing in the middle of the yard in one of those Wee Willie Winkie nightcaps, a big coat over his striped pyjamas. He has a stick in one hand and a smoking gun in the other. The dogs mill around a bale of straw on which are lined up the bodies of several rats. A cockerel crows in the distance and Sebastian joins me in Alex’s bedroom, crying for his mummy. People move to the country to find peace and quiet. However, as I try to calm Sebastian down, I find myself contemplating a return to the city.

I didn’t intend to spend the New Year wiping noses and pouring out bowls of Coco Pops, but I find myself warming to Lucie and Seb when they start talking about their lives.

‘I like being with Daddy, and I like being with Mummy as well,’ Lucie pronounces sadly while Seb stares wistfully into his bowl of cereal. ‘Mummy won’t let me take my pony to London.’

‘I can’t say I’m surprised, Lucie. Can you imagine taking your poor pony to live in the city? He’d hate it. There’d be no room for him to gallop about and stretch his legs.’ An image of a Thelwellian pony ordering a latte in Starbucks springs to mind and I suppress a smile.

‘I s’pose not.’ Lucie looks at me with what I hope is new-found respect at my knowledge of horses. ‘Have you got a mummy and daddy, Maz?’

‘Sort of. My mum lives in London. My dad’ – it never gets any easier to talk about him – ‘well, I don’t know where he is.’

‘Is he dead?’ Lucie says, wide-eyed. Then before I can answer, ‘I’ve seen a dead pony before, and a cow. My daddy killed them. He’s a vet.’

‘I know. So am I.’

‘Do you kill animals too?’

‘That’s only a small part of the job,’ I point out, and Lucie’s off again, running upstairs to change into her jodhpurs so she can go outside and brush her pony. Her energy leaves me feeling slightly breathless.

As I clear up, I catch sight of photos of Seb and Lucie on the exposed brick ledge beside the fire, and toys in the corner, including a Safari Vet set and some Duplo horses. There’s a box of 50ml syringes too, lying on top of brochures for various marques of four by four on the floor.

I pick up one of the brochures and have a quick flick through while I’m waiting. I’ve been a bit thick, imagining I can keep Alex’s home life separate from his life with me. Alex’s children aren’t an optional extra like heated seats or parking sensors on a car. Alex, Lucie and Sebastian – they’re a package.

Alex doesn’t get back from Delphi’s until nine, dried blood under his nails and spattered across his trousers. He’s accompanied by a whiff of penicillin and horse, with added notes of something floral and feminine, and my suspicious mind automatically jumps to the conclusion that it’s a woman’s perfume.

‘You took your time,’ I say. ‘What kept you?’

‘The bloody thing died on me,’ Alex says, a troubled expression in his eyes.

‘I’m sorry,’ I say.

‘It was a big Dutch warmblood, a real psycho of a horse. The last time I saw it, it had a touch of colic, which resolved with a shot of antispasmodic. Delphi said it wasn’t quite right after that, but I didn’t think any more of it. If I’d been a bit more proactive, if I’d seen it again before, referred it on.’ He shrugs. ‘I’ve never seen Delphi so upset. She had a special bond with that horse. She was the only person who could get near him without being bitten or kicked.’

‘You can’t blame yourself—’ I begin.

‘Well, I do,’ he says, cutting me off. ‘I’m going for a shower.’

He emerges half an hour later when Astra turns up, all fuss and disapproval at the way I’m looking after her children.

‘What are you doing giving them sugar?’ she says, her eyes latching on to the empty cereal box on the draining board. ‘How many times …?’

I stare at her, this tall, skinny woman with a thin face and blonde hair down to her shoulders, and an acidic tongue, thinking she could do with some sugar to sweeten herself up. She’s wearing shades on the top of her head and a bright spotted half-zip top over jeans, very Boden, and I feel at a disadvantage in Alex’s robe and a pair of his socks, because my feet were cold on the stone floor.

Seb clings to Astra’s leg, saying, ‘Mummy, Mummy, Mummy,’ and although I’m wondering what kind of mother she is, she picks him up and rests him on one bony hip. ‘Oh, Sebby, I missed you.’

‘I miss-ted you too.’ Seb rubs noses with his mother. I can see now that her tan is uneven, the skin around her eyes pale where she’s been wearing ski goggles.

‘I missed you,’ calls Lucie, who comes running inside, leaving a trail of muddy footprints. ‘Mummy!’ She tugs at her mother’s arm, trying to dislodge Sebastian. ‘Can we go skiing next time?’

Astra looks past me.

‘You’ll have to ask your father,’ she says, and I’m aware of Alex behind me, one hand on my waist.

‘Please, Daddy,’ Lucie says.

‘I’ll take you skiing,’ Alex says coolly.

‘Sure,’ Astra says. ‘And when will that be? By the time you get round to it, the world will have warmed a couple more degrees and there’ll be no snow.’

As Alex’s hand tenses, I step aside, not wanting to be part of a family feud.

‘Coffee, anyone?’ I ask.

‘Oh no, thanks,’ Astra says, wrinkling her nose. ‘We aren’t stopping. Hugo’s waiting in the car.’

‘I don’t wanna go back to London,’ says Lucie.

‘She says she doesn’t like going to school,’ Alex says, aiming this at Astra.

‘Nobody likes school,’ Astra says dismissively. ‘You don’t go because you like it.’

‘I wanna go to big school,’ says Seb, struggling out of his mother’s arms.

‘You can go instead of me,’ Lucie says.

‘Have you been in to see the head?’ Alex asks.

‘When do you think I have the time, Alex? Oh, don’t look at me like that.’

Astra doesn’t work, but she’s always given the impression she’s more of a go-out-a-lot than a stay-at-home mum, definitely more yummy than slummy. ‘Lucie, Seb, collect the rest of your toys together so we can get going.’

‘That wasn’t so bad, was it?’ Alex’s fingers tangle in my hair at the back of my neck as we watch Astra and Hugo drive away with Lucie and Seb strapped into the back of Hugo’s Mercedes, Seb clutching a teddy bear almost as big as he is.

‘How do you know?’ I accuse him lightly. ‘You weren’t here.’

‘It probably worked out for the best, getting to know the children without their interfering dad in the way.’ Alex falls silent for a moment. ‘You were nervous before – all those excuses – but you seem to have coped really well.’

‘Okay.’ I think it’s time to ’fess up. ‘I wasn’t sure about getting involved. I didn’t want to complicate things.’

‘And now?’

I lean back against him.

‘I’ll give it a go – with the children – but I don’t think I can bring myself to have any relationship whatsoever with your parents. They just don’t like me,’ I say, my voice sounding small. ‘Your father called me a floozie.’

‘Oh, that’s just him,’ Alex says dismissively. ‘It’s his general term for anything vaguely female and blonde.’

‘Well, that’s made me feel a whole lot better,’ I say with sarcasm.

‘I didn’t think you’d worry about what other people thought of you, Maz.’ Alex’s hand follows the curve of my waist and settles on my hip. ‘I think you’re gorgeous,’ he whispers in my ear, the touch of his lips sending quivers of heat and desire flaring across my skin. I turn to face him, keeping him at bay with my palms pressed against his chest.

‘Alex, I’m being serious. Your parents. They hate me. Your father said I was dragged up on a council estate – apparently, you told him that. And then your mother called me a chav.’

‘No?’ Alex says. ‘Oh, I’m sure she didn’t mean it.’

‘That isn’t how it came across to me,’ I say stubbornly. ‘Alex, they made me feel very unwelcome.’

‘Maz, you aren’t going to let my parents come between us, are you?’ Alex’s mouth curves into a smile, which is both infuriating and endearing at the same time.

‘Hey, whose side are you on?’ I say, irritated with him for not believing me. ‘I know very well what I heard.’

‘All right, I apologise for my parents’ appalling behaviour,’ he says, drawing me closer, squeezing the breath out of me like a muscular python. ‘I’m really sorry they’ve upset you.’

‘So you do believe me?’ I say, still uncertain of Alex’s sincerity.

‘Course I do.’ Alex pauses. ‘Forgive me if it seemed otherwise.’ He raises one eyebrow and tilts his head. ‘Please …’

I imagine falling out with him, never seeing him again, and my chest feels tight with anxiety. Then I give myself a mental kick up the backside because this situation is exactly what Alex’s parents are aiming for.

‘I forgive you,’ I say, knowing I’d actually forgive him pretty well anything, apart from infidelity and domestic violence. Oh, and wearing socks with sandals. I smile at the thought.

‘Thank you, Maz.’ Alex rests his forehead against mine. ‘You know, I’m a lucky man. There aren’t many women I know who’d take on someone like me, a divorced dad of two – well, let’s just say they aren’t the easiest of children – who’s always cutting dates short or abandoning them altogether to attend to sick horses. You don’t yell at me when I don’t turn up on time for dinner, or nag me for staying out all night.’

‘It works both ways,’ I point out. There are times when I’ve had to cancel at the last minute.