Dance While You Can (32 page)

The curator fiddled with his collar. His brown, Western suit didn’t fit him well. His bad teeth were exposed in a grin, and turning, I found Kamel had hoisted Jonathan up on to his shoulder. The curator looked at Jonathan just as he looked at Edward – with admiration verging on reverence. It was a look I was getting used to, but I didn’t like it. Almost everyone we’d met, especially on our cruise down the Nile when we had stopped in remote villages, looked at Edward and Jonathan like that. I wondered if it had anything to do with the vast amounts of money Edward dished out to the poverty-stricken villagers, who rushed out of their mountainside homes to greet him, their galibayas billowing behind them. What Edward talked about with these men, closeted away in dark, sunbaked houses while they sucked on hookahs and drew diagrams in the sand, I didn’t know. Whatever it was, though, it seemed to have a profound effect on him.

Wherever we went, Kamel went too. Sometimes he entered the huts with Edward, but usually he stayed outside with the children and me. I knew he carried a gun even though Edward denied it. And the way Kamel watched the slow movements of the villagers while listening to the distant, guttural sounds of Nubian drums, I knew he was waiting for something. Always in the distance was the Nile, a shimmery blue ribbon parting the desert. The conferences continued through the heat of the day while, forgotten by Edward, Charlotte, Jonathan and I sought refuge from the sun. The only break in the proceedings came when the cry of the Muezzin beckoned the Egyptians to prayer. Then Edward would emerge, his galibaya and turban coated in dust, and wait while a woman, her face shrouded in a tarha, wiped the sand from his face. He seemed then like a man I didn’t know. Until we went to Egypt I’d all but forgotten the sinister premonition I’d had that night at Westmoor when I’d heard Christine and Edward arguing. But while I was in Egypt my fears increased like a swelling black cloud. A sixth sense told me the storm was almost ready to break – and all I wanted was to go home.

Jeffrey was at Heathrow to meet us when we flew in from Cairo. Edward was returning with Christine the next day. We drove straight to the London house in Priory Walk, where Canary was so overjoyed to see the children that I thought she was going to break down and cry. In the Scots lilt we had all missed she clucked her delight at the gifts Charlotte and Jonathan had brought for her, and listened with wide eyes while they talked of pyramids and camels and the trips they had made in a felucca.

The following day I was in the kitchen with Mary when Canary came in. ‘Would you mind coming to the nursery, Mrs Walters? There’s a wee matter I’d like to discuss with you.’ And without waiting for an answer she left.

She was sitting in her wicker chair when I walked into the nursery, her hands folded in her lap, her papery eyelids blinking rapidly.

She got up and closed the door behind me. As she passed I could smell jasmine. ‘I think it would be better if no one overheard this conversation,’ she said. I perched on the edge of the wicker sofa beneath the window and waited. I could see she was uncomfortable so I smiled to try and help her relax.

‘Somebody came to call while you were in Egypt,’ she began. Her face remained sombre, and though she had told me nothing yet, I felt my smile begin to freeze. ‘He asked to see you but I told him you had gone on holiday.’

Her words hung in the air while I tried to control the thoughts that were suddenly careering about inside my head. ‘Did he leave his name?’ I asked finally.

‘No.’ Her face softened. ‘He didn’t have to.’

I knew instinctively that there would be no point in trying to deceive Canary. Alexander wouldn’t have told her anything, but I could tell from those few short words that she had read the situation perfectly. ‘Did he say anything at all?’ I asked.

‘Not then, no. But he came back again the next day.’ She pulled a letter out of her pocket and handed it to me. ‘He asked me to give you this.’

I stared down at the envelope, recognising his untidy scrawl. All the time Charlotte had been recovering in hospital, I’d thought about him. When I was in Egypt, watching the sun set over the Nile, I’d wished he could be there. All the times I’d felt afraid and alone – and had almost cried out for him. And now he had come. My heart was beating so hard I thought Canary must be able to hear it.

I got up. My body felt stiff and it was an effort to put one foot in front of the other. When I got to the door, I stopped. ‘Canary . . .?’ She was still watching me. ‘Thank you for not telling anyone about this.’

In the privacy of my own room I peeled back the flap of the envelope. My hands were shaking so badly I could hardly pull the letter free.

After I’d read it I lay back on my bed. He’d given me a phone number where I could reach him. He wanted to see me, he wanted to see his children.
His
children. Oh God, what was I going to do?

He said if he didn’t hear from me by the tenth he would call again. Today was the eighth.

I lived through the next twenty-four hours in a daze. I had to stop him from coming here – but I knew that as soon as I heard his voice on the phone my courage would fail me. In the end I felt I had no choice. Edward was back from Cairo so I asked Canary if I could use the telephone in the nursery. She folded her sewing away and left the room.

A man answered, and when I asked if I could speak to Alexander Belmayne, he said, ‘I’m afraid he’s in court at the moment. If you call again about five he should be here then.’

At five o’clock the children were in the nursery and Edward had gone out, so I used the phone in my bedroom. This time I was put through. As I heard Alexander’s voice come over the line, my fingers gripped the phone and my mouth was suddenly so dry I couldn’t speak.

‘Hello? Hello? Is anyone there?’

‘Alexander.’

There was a brief silence at the end of the line. ‘Elizabeth.’ His voice was soft and I felt tears rush to my eyes. ‘I was afraid you wouldn’t ring.’

I didn’t answer. ‘Are you still there?’ he said.

‘Yes.’

‘You read my letter.’ He stopped, and I could feel his presence so strongly it was as if he were in the room with me. ‘Can I see you?’

The tears spilled from my eyes and my whole body began to shake.

‘Elizabeth! Are you all right? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done this to you. But I have to see you, I’ll go out of my mind if I don’t. Please, for God’s sake, say you’ll meet me.’

‘No, Alexander,’ I sobbed. ‘No, I can’t. Please don’t ask me to explain.’

‘Elizabeth! Don’t hang up! Elizab . . .’

I pressed the phone back on the hook and sank to my knees, whispering under my breath for him to forgive me.

At that moment the door swung open and Charlotte came skipping in. ‘Look at this, Mum, what do you . . .?’ She stopped as she saw me kneeling on the floor, then ran into my arms, frightened tears starting from her eyes. ‘Why are you crying, Mummy? What is it? What’s happened?’

‘Hush, hush, darling. It’s nothing. Nothing for you to worry about.’ I smoothed my hand over her hair and felt myself being crushed from within. ‘Oh Charlotte, Charlotte, what have I done? What am I going to do?’

‘I don’t know, Mum, but it’ll be all right, I promise you. We’ll make it all right. Please stop crying, Mummy.’

Jonathan let up a loud wail as he came in and saw us sitting on the floor wiping tears from each other’s eyes. I held out my arms to him.

‘I’m sorry,’ he sobbed. ‘I didn’t mean to do it. Honest, Mum, I didn’t mean it.’

‘Didn’t mean to do what, darling?’

‘Whatever it was that made you cry. I didn’t mean it, Mum. I’m sorry.’

I met Charlotte’s eyes and through our tears we started to laugh. ‘Oh Jonathan,’ I hugged him fiercely, ‘I love you so very much.’ I reached out for Charlotte. ‘I love you both so much.’

We were still sitting on the floor an hour later when the smell of Canary’s jasmine perfume made me look up. She stood there for a moment, looking at me, then turned and walked away. When I reached the landing she was waiting in the hall below, holding the door to the sitting-room. Her face was grim as she watched me descend the stairs.

‘It’s all right,’ I said as I passed her.

‘I’ll be getting back to the children,’ she answered.

I didn’t look up until she had closed the door behind me, and when I did it was as if I was being carried away on the current of my own longing. Alexander was standing there, in my drawing-room, his dark overcoat unbuttoned to reveal the sombre grey suit beneath. He could have been anyone – except for the power that drew my eyes to his face, unleashing the blood that, for a moment, had seemed to stop in my veins. He was thinner, and his handsome face looked drawn and tired. I knew I should be angry with him for coming, but when he smiled and I saw the crooked tooth my heart turned over. It was as if a magnet had suddenly drawn together the fragmented pieces of my life.

‘I had to come, you know that, don’t you?’

I nodded, then suddenly I was in his arms. ‘Oh, Alexander, I’ve needed you so much.’

He held me close, crushing me, telling me he was sorry, that he should never have left me. I looked up into his eyes and touched his lips with my fingers. ‘Why do our lives have to be like this?’

He cupped my face in his hands. Suddenly a door slammed upstairs and someone ran down the stairs.

‘What are we going to do? You can’t stay, Edward will be back soon.’

‘Tell me about Jonathan, Elizabeth. Is he my son?’

Unable to meet his eyes, I turned away and went to sit beside the fire. ‘What do you intend to do?’ I asked, after a while.

He came to stand beside me and reaching out for my hand turned me round to face him. ‘I think that rather depends on you.’

I pulled my hand away, but still his grey eyes held me. ‘Please, Alexander, please go now, before anyone gets hurt.’

‘Elizabeth, you’ve given birth to two children, my children, whom I’ve never even met. Now isn’t it about time it all got sorted out?’

‘It’s too late, Alexander, there’s nothing to be sorted out any more.’

His face paled. ‘What do you mean? Either I am their father or I’m not. Which is it, Elizabeth?’

‘I think I’m in the best position to answer that.’ The door closed, and we spun round to find Edward standing there watching us. He walked towards us. ‘Are you going to make the introductions, Elizabeth?’ he said, never taking his eyes from Alexander.

I mumbled their names and turned away as they shook hands.

‘I think what Elizabeth is trying to tell you is that Charlotte and Jonathan – those are their names, by the way, in case you didn’t know – that Charlotte and Jonathan are no longer . . .’

‘
No!
’ I screamed. ‘No, Edward. Please!’

Edward turned to me. ‘But he has to know, my dear, otherwise he’ll think he can come here whenever he pleases.’

I saw Alexander bristle and stepped in quickly. ‘Please, Edward, let me deal with it.’

‘Shut up!’ I had never known Edward shout at me before. I must have recoiled – and Alexander took a step forward as if to defend me. Edward visibly shrank away from him, but his resolve remained firm. ‘What I’m trying to tell you, young man, is that the children you so arrogantly assume to be yours are, in fact, mine. Three years ago I adopted both Charlotte and Jonathan.’

‘Edward, stop!’ I ran to Alexander’s side. ‘You’ve gone too far, Edward!’

Alexander snatched his arm from me. ‘Tell me this isn’t true, Elizabeth. Tell me he is lying.’

I hung my head but he caught me by the shoulders and wrenched me round to face him. ‘You let this man adopt
my
children!’ he spat. ‘After all we meant to each other, you let
him . . .
’

‘Alexander, it wasn’t like that. You don’t understand. I had no choice . . . .’

Edward pulled me away and shoved me behind him. His eyes bored into Alexander’s. ‘You have no right to come here, upsetting my wife. . . .’

‘Your
wife?
And just what kind of wife is it who runs off and gets herself pregnant by another man? And what kind of man are you who steals another man’s children?’

‘Get out of here!’ Edward snarled.

I tore myself away from Edward and ran to Alexander. ‘Please, listen to me. Please . . .’ But Alexander wrenched himself free. His eyes were like ice as he looked back at me. ‘I’ll never understand how you could have done this, Elizabeth. You, above anyone else, knew . . .’

‘Enough!’ Edward’s voice cut between us.

‘Alexander! No! Don’t go!’ I cried, as he started to turn away. ‘Edward, let me go after him. He mustn’t leave like this.’

‘Stay where you are, Elizabeth. He’s out of your life now.’

‘How can he be? For God’s sake, he’s their father!’

The blow to my cheek stunned me to silence. And then, before I knew what was happening, Alexander had knocked Edward to the floor. I threw myself down beside him, but he flung me away and dragged himself to his feet. He was breathing heavily and reached out for the back of a chair to steady himself. ‘Get out!’ he growled. His face was grey and menacing and I felt a sudden stab of fear.

Alexander reached out for my hand and pulled me to my feet. ‘Take me with you,’ I begged. ‘Please, take me with you.’

‘Go with him now and you’ll never see your children again,’ Edward gasped.

‘She’s not coming with me.’

I spun round and my blood turned cold as Alexander’s pitiless eyes swept over my face.

‘No, Elizabeth. You made your decision the day you let him adopt our children.’ He shook his head slowly, and at last his eyes began to thaw. ‘Jesus Christ, why did you do it?’ His voice was quiet now. ‘They were my children, Elizabeth. My children.’ Then he turned and walked out the door.

I went slowly over to Edward. He was wiping the blood from his nose, his hands shaking badly. For several minutes neither of us moved. He was still holding on to the chair, his body sagging against it. Then suddenly he slumped awkwardly to his knees and his voice slurred from the back of his throat as he tried to say my name. I looked at him in horror as he slowly rolled to the floor.

When we reached the hospital Edward was wheeled away and I was left alone. I paced the corridor, going over and over all that had happened. I detested myself, knowing that I was to blame. If I hadn’t married Edward, I could have saved him all this and he wouldn’t be lying here in hospital, maybe dying.