Friends and Lovers (25 page)

He ran a finger down her spine and a tremor shivered through her. They kissed forcefully, passionately, and desire was a sweet flame that flared up inside them. They were both thinking of what had happened on the hills above West Kirkby.

‘It’s not safe,’ she said.

‘It would be nice, though,’ he said languidly. The room was warm and all sound seemed muffled, outside and in. He landed several small kisses on her face that were as gentle as dew.

‘I mean no, Nick,’ she said, knowing that if he persisted she would soon be like putty beneath his touch.

‘Trust me.’ He laid the palm of his hand flat on her stomach.

Her flesh trembled but her mind was determined that her body would not respond to the sensations that swept over her. ‘Nick, we’ve got to be sensible.’

He tickled her stomach with the tips of his fingers.

She closed her eyes and counted to ten. ‘My mother said it was difficult. Perhaps I’m like her after all?’ she said with a hint of self-mockery.

Nick sat up, his blue eyes dark. ‘You’ve got a thing about behaving like your mother!’

She struggled upright. ‘Is that surprising? You forget, I’m illegitimate. It still hurts at times, Nick.’

‘OK!’ He breathed deeply. ‘But it’s not important to me. But – just to prove that I’m not after your body, Viv, we’ll call a halt right now. You’re right. We have only just met after months. We should give it more time. Put your clothes back on.’

‘You mean it?’ Her voice was incredulous.

He frowned. ‘Of course I bloody mean it! I’ve lived like a monk for months. I can carry on a bit longer. It’s a struggle but – the battle is to the strong.’

‘I think it’s to the swift, isn’t it? Or is that the race?’ Viv’s tone was doubtful and she sighed as she eased herself against him and put her arms around him. ‘I know it won’t be easy when you go back but you won’t run off with Violet Eyes, will you?’

He pushed her away and said crossly, ‘And you won’t flirt with any Californian surfers while enjoying yourself in the sun?’

She kissed his bare shoulder and said mischievously, ‘All the time, love.’

His frown faded. Taking one of her hands, he pressed a kiss on its palm. Longing ran through her veins like warmed syrup. ‘Help me fasten my bra,’ she said huskily, and knelt up on the bed with her back to him.

He picked up her bra but dropped it and cupped her breasts instead, holding her against him. ‘I wonder if Delilah played your kind of tricks on Samson?’ There was a deep tremor in his voice.

‘I don’t want to weaken you,’ she whispered. I just want you to make an honest woman of me.’

‘Damn!’ he said savagely, and flopped on to the bed beside her. She kissed him ardently, saying against his mouth that she really did love him more than all the tea in China and adding that she madly wanted sex with him but that it was not on. Eventually they pushed each other away with desperate determination and slid off opposite sides of the bed.

‘Are you still going to marry me?’ said Viv with a slight smile.

He returned her smile and stretched out a hand. ‘If that’s the price I have to pay to have you.’ And with that he pulled her flat on the bed again and
began to kiss her all over again which was sweet torture.

‘I think we should go shopping,’ said Viv, a quarter of an hour later as she fastened her skirt. I haven’t bought you a Christmas present.’

‘Me and you both.’ Nick slipped his tie under the collar of his shirt. ‘I wish you could come home with me.’

‘I wish we could both go swimming in the Pacific,’ she said lightly before going into the bathroom for their footwear.

They walked back to Fifth Avenue, almost in silence. Nick commented on some of the buildings and added, ‘I mightn’t be able to build the house I want for us right away.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’ She smiled up at him. ‘We can both work towards it. I know we’re going up in the world. Mam was wrong all the way about you.’

Nick hesitated before saying, ‘When did you last see her?’

‘Months ago.’ Viv’s brow furrowed as she stopped outside Tiffany’s. ‘Do you think I should buy her a Christmas present? If I do, will you take it to her for me?’

He squeezed her hand. ‘You’ve made up your mind about her then, have you?’

‘She tried to make things right between us as you said.’ Viv stared at a glass bauble streaked at its heart with red and pink and green. It was a
pretty piece of nonsense and somehow spoke to her of her mother. Red could be for danger or for warmth. Green was for go and growth. Had her mother been honest with her and Stephen about Jimmy? Perhaps she had lied because she was jealous? Viv wanted that to be true.

They went inside and the pretty piece of nonsense was more expensive than she had expected but she told herself that it was Christmas and her mother would probably be spending it alone. While she waited for her transaction to go through, a lengthy business in Tiffany’s, Nick said that he would have a prowl round and meet her outside in half an hour or so. She guessed what he was up to and had a look around herself, coming to the irritating conclusion that there was nothing she liked that she could afford – so she spent money that she could ill afford but felt the better for it. Whether Nick would appreciate the thought behind the choice was a different matter.

As she emerged from Tiffany’s she was humming ‘I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas’ but it had stopped snowing. Even so it was still Christmas inside her. Nick slipped his arm round her. ‘After shopping in there all I can offer you is coffee and a doughnut,’ he said with a smile.

‘That’ll do me.’ In that moment she realised it was a very long time since she had felt so happy and she wanted to clutch the moment to her. All
too soon Nick would be winging his way across the Atlantic while she headed West, following the trail of a hundred movies. Momentarily she felt afraid. What if anything happened to him which meant they would never see each other again? She shivered.

‘What is it?’ asked Nick. ‘Cold?’

‘Yes,’ she said, and smiled up at him. No way was she going to spoil the next hours with irrational fears. Even so, she could not help remembering that where George was concerned, her fears had proved correct.

When the moment came for them to part Viv clung to Nick. ‘It’s not really goodbye, is it?’ she said.

‘No. Just au revoir!’ He hugged and kissed her one more time before handing her a small package. ‘Don’t open it till Christmas.’

She gave him his present and the one for her mother. ‘I hope you agree with it,’ she said softly. ‘Wear it and think of me. And don’t say anything soppy to Mam. I don’t want her thinking I’ve gone soft.’

Viv ran up the steps of the hotel, determined not to cry. In the doorway she stopped and looked back. He lifted a hand, blew a kiss and was gone.

Off and on across America Viv thought of Ursula’s violet eyes. Stupid of her to worry, she told herself. Nick had not had to tell her about the girl. It was just an example of the honesty he wanted them to share with one another. So why hadn’t she told him her suspicions about her father?

As they neared the California state border Viv’s worry about her father’s identity grew and she wondered if perhaps her mother might have written to her aunt about the cause of their quarrel? If she had not then Viv intended keeping quiet about Jimmy not being her father. Her aunt had enough worries with George, who had been sulky since the meeting with Nick.

At last they were in Napa country. Mike pointed out Mount St Helena a few miles away, and named trees and shrubs. Oaks mingled with redwood, laurel and pine. There were rivers and
streams watering the land in plenty. As Viv looked about her at the green and beautiful paradise she wondered how her aunt, a city sparrow, had settled in such a place. They came to a wide range of vineyards and orchards and Mike said with relief and excitement in his voice, ‘Nearly there.’

They passed through a stone gateway and travelled up a drive lined with trees. ‘Walnut,’ informed Mike, who was looking tired after the week-long journey.

A house came into view. It was built of stone and wood and had a veranda running its length. There were lots of windows and the roof was graced by a high multi-windowed turret. Viv thought the view from there must be quite something. A hand slipped into hers and she glanced at George to see he was looking slightly apprehensive.

‘Don’t worry,’ she whispered. ‘Everything’s going to be all right.’ He nodded but kept a grip on her hand.

The car came to a halt on a wide gravelled space and Viv and George climbed out. A door opened and a woman came flying towards them. She halted a foot or so away. Her copper-coloured hair was streaked with grey and she wore it in a curling top knot; hazel eyes creased at the corners in a familiar smile in her sun-bronzed face. ‘Aren’t I going to get a hello or a kiss?’ she said in a voice that quivered.

Viv would have flung herself at her aunt; George held her back. ‘George, this is your mother,’ she said quietly. ‘You must remember her?’

His grip tightened and his throat convulsed but he did not speak.

Flora’s smile faltered and tears brimmed in her eyes. For a moment she struggled for control and at last managed to say, ‘It doesn’t matter, Viv. All this must be so strange to him.’ She moved towards them, hugging Viv but only touching her son’s arm gently. ‘Come into the house, George. You must be tired as well as hungry. I’ve made apple pies and there’s steak and plenty of veggies. I could never fill you up in the old days. Remember we used to say you had hollow legs?’

He made no reply but walked beside them towards the house.

Mike caught up with his wife and said something in her ear. She nodded and said to Viv, ‘Excuse me, love. I’ll be with you in a second. The children are about somewhere. They’ll have heard the car.’

Viv looked at her in concern but walked on with George to where there were several outbuildings surrounded by shrubbery and flower beds. Her aunt had always loved flowers but her garden in Liverpool had been tiny. Suddenly from round the corner of the nearest building raced three children. The boys reached them first and like their mother stopped a foot or so away. They were identical
twins and stared from curious grey eyes. They were like Mike, thought Viv, except there was the slightest hint of ginger in the flaxen hair. A moment later their sister caught up with them, covering her face with her hands and peering through her fingers at them.

Viv crouched down so that her face was on a level with the girl’s. ‘Hi, Lizzie! Don’t you recognise us? You were only three when you left Liverpool. How old are you now?’

The hands were removed, revealing a shy smile. ‘Six. You’re cousin Vivien and …’ she pointed a chubby finger, ‘
he’s
my brother George.’

‘That’s right.’ Viv smiled. ‘Are you going to show us the house?’

Lizzie nodded and with an air of importance led the way. Her brothers trotted one either side. The one next to Viv said earnestly, ‘I’m Peter and I’m nine. Can George really not talk?’

‘Not yet. But he will,’ she replied with a confidence she was suddenly far from feeling.

‘What happened to him?’ asked the other twin, Simon.

‘We don’t really know. When he can talk, he’ll tell us.’ She noticed that George was staring at Lizzie and felt a tingling down her spine. Had he spotted the likeness to his dead sister Rosie? Suddenly he loosened his grip on Viv’s hand and walked towards his half-sister. Lizzie looked at
him and smiled. A smile which was unexpectedly returned.

‘Do you like wine?’ asked Lizzie. George nodded. ‘My pa makes wine. We’ll show you after.’ She took hold of his hand and led him towards the house.

Viv let out a long breath and followed with the boys. Her aunt was suddenly there beside her, still wearing a concerned expression. ‘What’s up, love? Is he all right? Are
you
all right?’

‘I think so. He and Lizzie seem to have hit it off.’

The strained look on Flora’s face relaxed. ‘Lizzie’s a cheery little soul and won’t do him anything but good.’ She squeezed Viv’s arm. ‘You must be shattered. Has he been terribly difficult?’

‘Not really,’ lied Viv, entering the house. ‘I suppose you’ve been up the wall with worry?’

‘Twice I was nearly on a plane but Mike told me not to be so mother-hennish. That if you’d thought I needed to be in Liverpool, you would have said so.’

Viv smiled. ‘I wouldn’t have known where to put you, to be honest. That was one of the reasons I decided to bring George here. Mam and I have fallen out.’

‘I know,’ said Flora grimly. ‘I received a Christmas card and a letter from her only the other day.’

‘What did she have to say?’

Her aunt’s smile came and went. ‘We’ll talk about it later.’ She slipped a hand through Viv’s arm and hugged it. ‘It’s so good to have both of you here. What do you think of my house? It’s too far from the coast, of course, but we do have a beach house. We’ll be going there on Boxing Day for a few days.’

‘That sounds great,’ said Viv, looking about her curiously. The room was as spacious as most rooms she had seen in America so far. This one, though, was more homelike. The sofas looked comfortable and there were hand embroidered cushions scattered about. A rocking chair rested near a window and there was a Welsh dresser against a wall. A log fire burnt in the large open fireplace and on either side of it were shelves filled with books, records and ornaments. Tinsel garlands were strung along the mantelshelf; there was a decorated tree in one corner and a television in another.

George was sitting on one of the sofas next to Lizzie, an open book on his knee. Flora smiled at them before pulling Viv aside. ‘You didn’t keep anything from me, did you?’ she whispered. This knock on his head – how serious was it?’

‘Not very,’ said Viv, eager to reassure her. ‘Uncle Steve reckons his trouble is more to do with shock and is emotional. He thinks George
will speak when he’s ready. He just needs lots of loving care.’

Flora stared at her curiously. ‘Has Stephen changed that much?’

Viv murmured. ‘I think he’s come to terms with losing his family and that’s a good thing. He missed the mothering his mam and sisters used to give him.’

‘You’re very wise for your age, Viv,’ said Flora, flushing. ‘I didn’t help him by breaking it off the way I did, though I’d tried to let him down gently first.’ She hesitated. ‘Come into the kitchen, love, and we can talk there. I’ve got to check on the dinner and we can make a cuppa.’

Viv followed her out and sat on a pine chair, wondering what was coming next. She gazed about her, considering how different this kitchen was from her aunt’s in Liverpool. It had cupboards galore, a huge fridge and a view out of the window that would make doing the washing up almost a pleasure. She wondered whether to mention her mother again, part of her wanting her curiosity satisfied and the other not wanting to know if it was going to cause unhappiness to her aunt.

Flora set cups and saucers on a tray. ‘Hilda’s missing you. She sounds lonely.’

Viv looked at her fingernails. ‘She brought it on herself.’

‘I know that,’ murmured Flora.

‘What has she told you?’

Her aunt leant against a cupboard. ‘Let’s say reading the letter was like reading one of those
True Confession
magazines.’

Viv lifted her head. ‘You mean she told you the truth?’

‘All about Dominic and Stephen.’

‘I bet it was all melodrama.’

‘Lots of sound and fury, signifying quite a lot. She said that I should never have told you that Jimmy was your father,’ said Flora, her tone caustic. ‘And that she wouldn’t be as unhappy as she is now, if I’d kept my mouth shut.’

Viv sprang to her feet, unable to bear sitting still any longer. ‘She’s got a blinking nerve, Aunt Flo! When I think of the unhappiness
she
caused, and what she did to you! She doesn’t deserve you to be concerned about her!’

Flora stared at her. ‘What has she done to me that you’re getting so worked up about?’ she said softly. ‘What do you know, Viv? Or what is it that you think you know?’

She opened her mouth and then closed it firmly.

‘That bad?’ said Flora drily.

‘If you don’t know,’ said Viv, gazing at her fingernails again, ‘then there’s no need for me to tell you.’

‘I see.’ Flora took the kettle off. ‘Hilda has no
idea that you’re here with George, you know.’

‘Of course she hasn’t,’ said Viv. ‘But she’ll know soon enough because Nick’s going to visit her. I almost wish he wasn’t now but I had a moment of weakness in New York and bought her a Christmas present. He’s going to take it to her.’

Flora smiled. ‘At least that’s good news. Mike told me of your meeting with Nick and your becoming engaged. I’m really glad about that, Viv.’

She clasped her hands in front of her and her face was pink with pleasure. ‘I wasn’t sure you would be. I mean, Mam went on and on about his mother’s reputation.’

‘None of us are perfect,’ said Flora, placing the teapot on the tray. ‘You’ll be good for each other. You have similar backgrounds and you’ve both grown up in the hard school of life.’

‘George doesn’t like him.’

‘He never did. Nick was that little bit older and wiser and George didn’t like that. He’s like his father, always wanting to be top dog.’

‘Sam, Uncle Steve’s mate, said he was like his father. He said Tom Cooke was an OK bloke though.’

‘He was in lots of ways, but in others—’ She shrugged. ‘I can see it all clearly now, looking back.’ Flora’s eyes met Viv’s, reflecting her own feelings, and with a sense of shock she realised that
her aunt either knew for certain who her father was or had guessed. ‘George has always been like a brother to me,’ she said with difficulty.

‘Of course he has,’ said Flora reassuringly. ‘And his emotional dependency on you is due in part to your having been brought up together. As long as it doesn’t go any deeper than that with him …’

‘Now we’re here things will change.’ Viv tried to strike a confident note. ‘Look how he’s taken to Lizzie.’

Her aunt’s brow knitted. ‘That’s a good sign, isn’t it?’

‘Yes,’ said Viv, some of the tension seeping out of her. She decided to change the subject. ‘How’s that tea coming along, Aunt Flo? I’m absolutely parched.’

‘All right, love. Enough’s been said. But sooner or later you’re going to have to consider your attitude to your mother. It seems to me that she has been trying to make amends for her past behaviour – if making a muck of it in the process.’

Viv grimaced. ‘Too right. But don’t let’s spoil Christmas by thinking about her now.’ With that she picked up the tray and carried it through into the living room.

Flora told Viv that she had decided they would stay at home for Christmas Day instead of making their usual trip to Mike’s mother’s house. It would be too confusing for George with the whole rowdy
Donovan clan gathered together. Viv was quite happy to fall in with whatever her aunt planned. It was good just to be with the family once more.

Christmas Day was peaceful but filled with simple pleasures. Viv opened her present from Nick alone in her bedroom. It was a silver
heart-shaped
locket and she immediately put it on. Mike and Flora gave George a large box of paints and for a moment Viv thought he would speak because his expression was one of sheer delight. But although he opened his mouth no words came, and then the smile faded and he put the box under the table and looked thoroughly miserable. It was a real disappointment and Viv found herself praying intensely that soon he would speak. Perhaps when they were all used to being together again, he would become himself again? Viv hoped so because she was convinced that until he did she would not feel free to go home.

The next day they travelled south and after a couple of days Viv felt she had been away from home for a month, not just a couple of weeks. She lay on a beach not far from Santa Barbara watching the surf roll in, toying with the locket around her neck. Already she had started a letter to Nick, describing the vinery with its wine cellar and distillery, and planned to write about this part of California with its Hispanic-styled architecture and lovely whitewashed missions.

She picked up a tin of Nivea and began to smooth cream on her arms. Her eyes narrowed against the sun as she watched her cousins splashing in the surf. Her aunt and uncle were further along the beach, their heads together in conversation. George was a foot or so away, part facing her as he pencilled something on a drawing pad. He looked up and she smiled at him. ‘Is it going to be good, George?’

He shrugged and then gave his attention once more to his drawing. For a while Viv lay sunbathing but as the sun grew really hot, decided to cool off.

‘Are you thinking of going in for a swim?’ she asked her cousin. He shook his head and not for the first time she wondered if his experience in France had bred in him a fear of water that had not been there before.