An Eligible Bachelor (23 page)

‘Look, Johnny. This is all going too fast. Let’s just stick with the guinea pig for the time being, OK? No great commitment. No sudden life changes. No promises we can’t keep. Let’s see how it goes.’

‘Listen – there’s no strings attached to my offer. I just want to help.’ As Honor opened her mouth to protest, he put up his hand. ‘And before you start, I’m not being patronizing. I’m a bachelor, and a well-paid one at that. My practice is doing incredibly well and I’ve got nothing else to spend my money on. Wouldn’t you rather Ted had it than the bookie?’

‘I suppose so…’

‘Have a think about it. Let me know.’ He paused. ‘I can wait. I know it’s going to take a long time to win you round.’

‘What do you mean, win me round?’

Honor narrowed her eyes, wary. Johnny spoke softly: that was always a bad sign. It was when he was at his most persuasive. Usually prior to him being his most destructive. She tried to harden her heart to what he was saying.

‘You know, Honor, you leaving like that was a serious wake-up call for me. It made me realize what a destructive bastard I was. Only it was too late. I’d done the damage. Lost the one person that really mattered to me…’ He trailed off, looking sorry for himself. ‘It’s been a long six years. I’ve spent it searching for a replacement for you, but there wasn’t anyone who came near. I was just coming to terms with the fact that there was nobody else out there for me. That I’d totally blown it and that I was going to face the rest of my life as a sad, lonely old git. And then… I look up and there you are.’

‘I know. What is it they say? Small world?’ Honor did her best to sound brisk and unsentimental.

‘You don’t think it means something? You don’t think it means that we’re meant to be together?’

‘No. I don’t want to burst your bubble, Johnny, but it was just a coincidence.’ Honor was exasperated. Johnny was romanticizing, and no doubt hoping she’d get swept along. ‘It’s all very well trying to turn this into a fairy-tale ending. But don’t try and tug on my heartstrings, because if anyone’s had a tough time of it, it’s me. Not that I’m looking for sympathy. It was my choice. I could have taken the easy way out after what you did. Most people would, finding out they were pregnant by a waster.’

She spat this out viciously, and was gratified to see Johnny look appalled by the implications of what she was saying. She carried on, finding that now she had started, she couldn’t stop.

‘But I chose to go it alone. And it’s been tough, I can tell you. Carrying a child for nine months, not knowing if it’s going to be all right. Giving birth on your own is
no picnic either. And looking after a tiny baby is terrifying. I hardly slept at all for the first six months. Not because he didn’t, but because I was so petrified he wouldn’t wake.’

Honor found she was working herself up into a state, as the memory of all the years of worry and loneliness suddenly closed in on her. She was furious with herself. No doubt this was just what Johnny wanted – her breaking down, showing she was vulnerable. So that he could move in and comfort her.

But Johnny didn’t. He just looked at her solemnly.

‘I would have been there for you. For you both. If I’d been given the chance.’

They stared at each other, the atmosphere between them crackling with antagonism.

‘You weren’t fit to look after us.’

Johnny shrugged.

‘Your verdict, Honor. Delivered without a judge or a jury, as far as I can see.’

‘I didn’t want to burden you with any more responsibility. You already had one child on your hands, after all.’

As soon as she delivered this final blow, an oblique reference to the girl he’d been in bed with, she realized she had gone too far, that her bitterness was unattractive, that she was losing face. Johnny gave a bleak smile.

‘It was a meaningless fuck performed under duress, Honor. If you want to drag it up and throw it back in my face for the rest of my life, then fine, if it makes you feel better. I was hoping for a more positive outcome to all of this. Something that might be beneficial to Ted.’

Honor was silent, wary, her mind racing as she tried to work out how she could recover the ground she had lost. The bottom line was she couldn’t change what had happened. Maybe Johnny was right. They had to make the best of it, for Ted’s sake. But he had to understand how she felt. She couldn’t just absolve him overnight. That seemed to be what he expected.

‘You know what else?’ said Johnny. ‘I can’t stand to see you so bitter. You shouldn’t have to suffer because of my weakness. Give yourself a break – make the most of the fact that I’m back in your life.’ He gave a cynical grin. ‘Get the most out of me while you can – most women would.’

‘I’m not –’

‘Most women.’ Johnny finished her protest for her. ‘I know you’re not. Which is why I’m here. Which is why I care so much. Which is why I came to find you both. Instead of doing a runner. Which would have been the easiest thing to do.’

Honor swallowed. Withstanding Johnny would add a huge pressure to her life. He wasn’t easy to fight, she knew that. She couldn’t cope with a battle of wills on top of her new job. And the luxury of having someone to share with – the luxury she had longed for so many times – was so tempting. And what did she have to gain by flagellating him, extricating some sort of eternal retribution for his errant ways?

She capitulated with a sigh.

‘OK,’ she said. ‘You win.’

‘No,’ said Johnny. ‘This isn’t about me winning. Or you winning. This is about Ted. Hopefully, he’ll be the winner.’

Honor nodded, hoping that she wasn’t going to cry. She wasn’t sure if it was the relief, or the suspicion that she had been somehow hoodwinked.

‘You’re right.’ Her voice faltered a little. ‘He is the only thing that matters in all of this.’

There was a small silence, while they both took in the fact that they had called a truce, neither of them quite sure what to do or say. Johnny cleared his throat awkwardly.

‘So. Saturday’s OK, then?’

‘Saturday?’

‘Can I look after Ted?’

Honor stared at Johnny in disbelief.

‘You really don’t know when to give up, do you?’

Johnny laughed.

‘Never. I never give up. You know that.’

‘I don’t know…’

‘For God’s sake, Honor. What are you afraid of? That I’m going to kidnap him? Because I can assure you, I’m not. It wouldn’t be too convenient, after all. I can’t exactly bring a six-year-old boy into the surgery on Monday morning. And I won’t try to brainwash him, either. I just want to get to know the guy, OK?’

Johnny ran his hand through his hair in exasperation. Honor bit her lip.

‘You’ll be two minutes up the road. And it’ll be much better for you if you don’t have him with you on the first night.’

He really did have a point there.

‘OK.’ She gave in with a sigh. ‘Just promise me…’

‘Promise you what?’

Honor didn’t know. It was just a mother’s reflex, to want reassurance. But she didn’t want to come across as neurotic.

‘Nothing. Come at four o’clock.’

Johnny put his glass down and scooped up his keys from the table top.

‘Four o’clock it is.’

He moved towards her and instinctively she recoiled. He looked at her, hurt in his eyes.

‘It’s OK. I wasn’t going to try anything on.’

His voice was brusque as he leaned forward and brushed his cheek against hers in a polite gesture of farewell, then turned for the door. She flushed with embarrassment.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean –’

He put his hand up to say it didn’t matter. Feeling thoroughly ashamed, she walked him to the door, and watched as he got into his car. She heard the engine start up and swallowed the urge to rush after him, tell him to stop and come back inside. She suddenly felt racked with guilt, and the need to explain. He’d behaved with such dignity this evening. Dignity and respect: he hadn’t confronted her, or demanded an explanation, or condemned her. She was the one who had hurled accusations and harangued him, while he’d heaped praise upon her for how she had managed. Did that mean he was a better person than she’d ever given him credit for?

Could somebody really change that much?

She thought about how much
she
had changed in the intervening years. She’d gone from go-getting career-girl-about-town to unassuming single mother with no career
to speak of. The high-maintenance, glamorous creature she had been had faded into the background; whereas once she had been groomed and coiffed, sleek and coordinated, now she was casual, with little make-up and comfy (though she hoped not frumpy) clothes. Jeans and hoodies and cardies and cargo pants in soft colours replaced designer dresses and trouser suits. And now her idea of a good Saturday night wasn’t a fashionable watering hole or a dinner party attended by other success stories, but takeaway pizza and a video with Ted and a couple of his mates.

If she’d changed beyond recognition, then surely Johnny could have too?

When Charles came home at five to eight, Travis was, as promised, helping Henty in the kitchen with the supper. He stopped in the middle of chopping some garlic to shake Charles’s hand, then carried on with his task. Henty smothered a smile as Charles looked a little nonplussed: Travis looked at home already, opening cupboards and drawers to find what he wanted. Henty decided there was nothing sexier than a bloke who was comfortable in the kitchen but didn’t make a fuss about it. When Charles cooked, everyone had to know about it. He was constantly asking where things were, tutting if walnut oil or pine nuts weren’t readily available, utilizing every utensil then expecting everyone else to clear up after him as if he’d done them all some huge favour. Travis just got on with it. Henty was doing steak, jacket spuds and salad for the grownups and the two girls – Robin and Walter had already had chicken nuggets and were fighting in the bath
and he rustled up a salad dressing without any fuss. It was Henty’s least favourite job. Charles hated ready-made, but she never got the balance right between oil and vinegar, no matter how many recipes she tried.

Travis got it just right.

‘It’s delicious,’ exclaimed Henty when he asked her to taste it. ‘The agency didn’t tell me you were a demon cook.’

‘I’m not really. But my mum trained us well,’ he explained. ‘I’ve got five brothers and sisters and she made sure we could all cook and wash and iron. Otherwise she says her life would have been hell.’

A bit like mine, thought Henty, deciding that she was going to start getting tough. Her husband and her kids were thoroughly spoilt. Whenever she asked them to do anything there was such a protest, it was painful. Take Thea and Lily. She’d asked them to lay the table earlier and they’d pleaded homework, but now they were sitting at the kitchen table drooling over Travis. They both had hideous shiny strawberry-scented lip gloss on and piles of eyeliner that made their eyes look tiny. Henty had been tempted to put on make-up too, but Charles would have spotted it immediately and passed some sort of sarcastic comment that would have made her squirm with embarrassment.

Lily insisted on putting Christina Aguilera on the CD player and turning it up, full volume. Charles turned it off and put on Dido.

‘Yaaawn,’ pronounced Thea, disgusted.

‘Isn’t there something we all like?’ pleaded Henty.

‘Which do you prefer, Travis?’ asked Lily sweetly.

‘We don’t have music at the dinner table back home,’ he said. ‘We prefer to talk.’

What an angel, thought Henty, as he winked at her and the girls tossed their shiny hair in disgust.

Charles opened a bottle of wine.

‘Not South African, I’m afraid,’ he apologized. ‘I’m a bit of an Old World traditionalist when it comes to wine.’

‘Hey, I don’t care where it comes from,’ replied Travis, pointing to the little stubby Henty had given him earlier. ‘I’ll stick with the beer, if that’s OK.’

‘Sure,’ said Charles, fetching him another out of the fridge.

‘Can we have one?’ chorused the girls.

‘No,’ chorused Henty and Charles.

‘So what’s brought you to England?’ Charles swirled his wine round in the glass and sniffed appreciatively, whilst not taking his eyes off his new employee.

Travis leaned back against the work surface, one long leg crossed over the other, and took a swig from his beer.

‘Mum’s English, so I’ve got an English passport. I want to go to uni here, but I’ve got to save up some money first. I spent the summer exercising polo ponies for some family friends in Warwickshire, but the season’s over now.’

‘And what are you going to study?’

‘Equine science.’

‘That’s what I want to do!’ squeaked Thea.

‘Since when?’ said Charles, turning to her with a supercilious eyebrow. ‘I thought you wanted to go to drama school.’

‘No way. I never said that.’

‘You did!’ exclaimed Lily. ‘You want to be an actress! You were hanging round Eversleigh Manor all summer hoping to be spotted.’

‘I was not!’

‘They’ve just finished filming a television series in the village,’ Henty explained to Travis. ‘It’s been chaos. I don’t know why, but the sight of a camera crew turns everyone into gibbering idiots.’

‘Everyone wants their fifteen minutes of fame,’ said Charles. Including Fleur Gibson, he thought, feeling a mild flutter of panic that the day he had been dreading and looking forward to in equal parts was so near.

Henty opened the oven door to get out the jacket potatoes.

‘Golly, it’s hot in here,’ said Thea, and ostentatiously pulled off her top. Underneath she had on a tiny white singlet, and underneath that a bright pink bra. Charles nearly spat out his Shiraz. Since when had his fourteen-year-old daughter had a cleavage? Instinctively, his eyes turned to Travis. He was dicing peppers for the top of the salad, seemingly oblivious.

‘Thea. Put your top back on. Now.’ Charles muttered urgently under his breath, hoping his daughter would get the message and Travis wouldn’t look up.

‘Sorry, Daddy. Did you say something?’

Charles gestured wildly with his hands for her to cover herself up. She stared back at him in puzzlement. Travis caught sight of the exchange and picked up Thea’s top from the back of her chair.