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The Pregnancy Affair
Anne Mather
Mills & Boon are excited to present The Anne Mather Collection – the complete works by this classic author made available to download for the very first time! These books span six decades of a phenomenal writing career, and every story is available to read unedited and untouched from their original release.The price of one more night…The last person Olivia expected to see when she returned to her hometown was her ruggedly handsome ex-husband. Joel Armstrong was the reason she'd stayed away so long. The breakup of their marriage had been swift, but the scars were raw.Searing attraction still flared between them. But how could they indulge it again…when their passion had led to an unexpected pregnancy, with an equally unexpected twist?


Mills & Boon is proud to present a fabulous collection of fantastic novels by bestselling, much loved author
ANNE MATHER
Anne has a stellar record of achievement within the
publishing industry, having written over one hundred
and sixty books, with worldwide sales of more than
forty-eight MILLION copies in multiple languages.
This amazing collection of classic stories offers a chance
for readers to recapture the pleasure Anne’s powerful,
passionate writing has given.
We are sure you will love them all!
I’ve always wanted to write—which is not to say I’ve always wanted to be a professional writer. On the contrary, for years I only wrote for my own pleasure and it wasn’t until my husband suggested sending one of my stories to a publisher that we put several publishers’ names into a hat and pulled one out. The rest, as they say, is history. And now, one hundred and sixty-two books later, I’m literally—excuse the pun—staggered by what’s happened.
I had written all through my infant and junior years and on into my teens, the stories changing from children’s adventures to torrid gypsy passions. My mother used to gather these manuscripts up from time to time, when my bedroom became too untidy, and dispose of them! In those days, I used not to finish any of the stories and Caroline, my first published novel, was the first I’d ever completed. I was newly married then and my daughter was just a baby, and it was quite a job juggling my household chores and scribbling away in exercise books every chance I got. Not very professional, as you can imagine, but that’s the way it was.
These days, I have a bit more time to devote to my work, but that first love of writing has never changed. I can’t imagine not having a current book on the typewriter—yes, it’s my husband who transcribes everything on to the computer. He’s my partner in both life and work and I depend on his good sense more than I care to admit.
We have two grown-up children, a son and a daughter, and two almost grown-up grandchildren, Abi and Ben. My e-mail address is mystic-am@msn.com (mailto:mystic-am@msn.com) and I’d be happy to hear from any of my wonderful readers.

The Pregnancy Affair
Anne Mather


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

Contents
Cover (#ud6ee695d-f699-5908-8ac9-4ee9ae1826dc)
About the Author (#u2bdeae61-cbe4-56c5-9030-a1631e5002af)
Title Page (#u0eb48667-162b-50cf-aa0f-b5bfbb7ba3ba)
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
EPILOGUE
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ONE (#uad9d4332-a307-5d5f-8616-0e1c227fad19)
THE sign informing passengers to Fasten Seat Belts flashed on above Olivia’s head and she automatically reached to check that her belt was in place.
‘We’ll be landing at Newcastle International Airport in fifteen minutes,’ the saccharine-sweet voice of the flight attendant announced smoothly. ‘Please ensure that all your hand luggage is put away in the overhead lockers and that your tray tables are securely stowed.’
The aircraft dipped to begin its approach to the airport and Olivia’s stomach lurched in protest. But it wasn’t the amount of coffee she’d consumed that morning that was giving her such a sickly feeling. It was the knowledge that she was returning to Bridgeford after so many years that was tying her stomach in knots.
The landing was swift and uneventful. The airport was busy and the plane taxied efficiently to its unloading bay as passengers and crew alike began gathering their belongings together. There was little chit-chat. This was primarily a business flight, most of the passengers either on or returning from business trips, with only a handful of holidaymakers to make up the numbers.
Olivia’s trip was neither business nor pleasure, she thought, and she wasn’t at all sure she was doing the right thing by coming here. She doubted her father would want to see her, whatever reassurances her sister had given her, and there’d be no sympathetic shoulder for someone who’d messed up her life, not just once, but twice.
Still, it was too late to have second thoughts now. The plane had come to a complete standstill, the door was open, and her fellow passengers were all jostling to be first to alight. Eventually, of course, she had to get up and follow them. She should have worn flats, she thought as her ridiculously high heels caught in the metal of the stairway. But pride was a stubborn companion and Olivia was determined not to appear as desperate as she felt.
A short walk across the tarmac and she was in the terminal buildings, offering her passport for inspection and lining up to collect her suitcase from the carousel. She’d only brought one suitcase, leaving the rest of her belongings in storage in London. Because that was where she was going to find herself an apartment, she told herself firmly. This trip to Bridgeford was just to prove to herself—and her family—that she wasn’t afraid to come back.
Her suitcase was one of the first to appear and Olivia pulled a wry face as she hauled it off the carousel. OK, she thought, it was time to face the music. Linda, her sister, had said she would come to meet her. Which was a relief. She was likely to be the least-judgemental of the family.
Beyond the doors, a crowd of people was waiting to greet the passengers, many of them carrying name boards to identify themselves. One thing, Olivia thought drily, there was no way she wouldn’t recognise Linda. Whether Linda would recognise her was another thing altogether.
And then she stopped dead in her tracks, the suitcase she was towing behind her running on into the backs of her legs. But she hardly noticed the bump or the momentary discomfort it gave her. She was staring at the man who was standing at the back of the crowd of people, and, although she couldn’t believe it, it seemed he was waiting for her.
She glanced quickly behind her, half convinced he wasn’t looking at her at all but at some other person who’d followed her through the doors. But there was no one immediately behind her, no one else to coincide with his line of vision.
And then, to confirm her disbelief, he moved towards her, pushing his way through the waiting mob to fetch up by her side. ‘Hi,’ he said, taking the handle of the suitcase from her unresisting hand. ‘D’you have a good journey?’
Olivia stared at him blankly. ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, aware that it probably wasn’t the politest thing to say in the circumstances, but she couldn’t help it. If she’d been anxious on the plane, she was a hundred times more nervous now. Her heart was pounding, the blood rushing through her veins like wildfire. What the hell was Joel Armstrong doing here? She’d have expected him to avoid her like the plague. ‘Wh-where’s Linda?’
If he noticed the stammer, he gave no sign of it. ‘At home,’ he replied evenly, and because he started walking away from her, she was obliged to follow him. ‘Your father’s having a bad day,’ he continued. ‘She thought it would be wiser not to leave him alone.’
Olivia blinked. She could have said all her father ever had were bad days in her estimation, but she didn’t. She was too busy trying to keep up with his long strides. Trying to ally herself, too, to the man who was walking beside her. Fifteen years ago, he’d been little more than a boy. Now he was a man.
And what a man, she thought, permitting herself a covert look in his direction. He’d always been tall, but now he’d filled out, the shoulders of the leather jacket he was wearing owing nothing to padding she was sure. A lean jawline showed just the trace of a five o’clock shadow, while his unruly dark hair was shorter than she remembered, exposing the handsome shape of his skull.
Not that handsome described him exactly. His youthful good looks had given way to a harsher profile altogether. Fans of lighter skin flared from the corners of his cool grey eyes, while deeper ridges framed the narrow-lipped beauty of his mouth.
God, he was attractive, Olivia thought, feeling a pang of awareness she’d never expected to feel again. It hardly seemed possible that they’d once been married. Had she really allowed a sense of pride to rule her reason? Would things have been different if she’d chosen to stay and fight?
She stumbled as they stepped out into the watery sunshine of an April day. It had been cool in London, but it was amazingly mild here. As Joel turned at her muffled exclamation, she regretted the urge she’d had to dress up for the journey. She’d wanted Linda to envy her her trim figure and designer clothes. She’d even chosen the shortest skirt in her wardrobe to show off the slender length of her legs. As for how much it had cost to have the ash-blonde highlights in her honey-brown hair renewed…She must have been crazy to think anyone would care.
‘You OK?’ Joel asked now and she nodded automatically.
‘I’m fine,’ she said quickly. ‘Where are you parked?’
‘Not far away,’ he responded, slowing his pace a little. ‘Be grateful it’s not raining. It was earlier.’
Olivia pulled a face, but she refused to answer him. Dammit, here they were, meeting one another after fifteen years, and all he could talk about was the weather. Why was she feeling so tongue-tied suddenly, when he was obviously quite at ease with her?
Whatever had happened to him in the last fifteen years had definitely changed him. And for the better, she mused. He’d left school at eighteen and, despite getting excellent results, he’d gone to work for her father. He’d wanted to marry her and they’d done so as soon as she was eighteen. Everyone had expected it would last, even Joel. Or at least she’d thought that was what he’d believed. Looking at him now, she was beginning to wonder if that was just another of her many mistakes.
‘So—how are you?’ she managed at last, relieved when they turned between the aisles of parked cars. Surely it wouldn’t be much further. ‘It’s been a long time.’
‘Hasn’t it just?’ he agreed, a faintly mocking twist to his mouth as he looked at her and Olivia knew damn well he’d never looked at her like that before. It was as if she amused him. ‘You seem OK,’ he added. ‘I guess living in the States agrees with you.’
It didn’t, actually, Olivia was tempted to respond, but that had had more to do with the man she’d been living with than with the country itself.
Joel stopped behind a huge four-wheel-drive and juggled his keys out of his pocket. Flipping open the rear door, he stowed Olivia’s suitcase in the back and then went round and opened the passenger door.
Olivia was still admiring the vehicle, its mud-splattered wing in no way detracting from its sleek appearance. Was this Joel’s or her father’s? she wondered uncertainly. Whosever it was, things at the farm must definitely be looking up.
‘Nice car,’ she said, and wished he wasn’t watching her get in. The seat was high and her skirt rode up to her bottom as she levered herself onto it. And she was fairly sure Joel was suppressing another of those mocking smiles.
‘I like it,’ he said, without expression. He walked around the bonnet and climbed in beside her, the high seat offering no obstacle to his long legs. ‘All set?’
‘As I’ll ever be,’ said Olivia tartly, not seeing why he should have it all his own way. Then, as his hands gripped the wheel, she noticed the wedding ring on his third finger. Not the ring she’d given him, she realised, but a much more expensive band altogether. Her stomach tightened unpleasantly. ‘Are you married?’
It was an impertinent question and she knew as soon as she’d voiced it that it was nothing to do with her. But dammit, he had been her husband first. Didn’t she have a right to know if he’d replaced her?
‘Do you care?’ he countered now and, despite her determination not to let him see how she was feeling, Olivia felt the hot colour stain her cheeks.
‘I—not particularly,’ she muttered, turning her attention to a plane that was just coming in to land. ‘This airport’s busier than I remember.’
‘Things change,’ said Joel, reversing out of the space and turning in the direction of the exit. ‘And I’m divorced. For the second time,’ he appended drily. ‘I guess neither of us has had any luck in that direction.’
‘What do you mean?’
Olivia’s eyes were drawn to him now, and he gave her a sardonic look. ‘Linda told me your second marriage broke up,’ he said. ‘Isn’t that why you’re back in England?’
Olivia expelled a resentful breath. Linda, she thought irritably. She might have known her sister wouldn’t keep something like that to herself. ‘I’ve come back to England because my work’s here,’ she retorted shortly. ‘I don’t know enough about the US housing market to get a comparable job in New York.’
‘Ah.’ Joel allowed the distinction, but Olivia still felt as if he didn’t believe her. ‘So you’re going to do what? Join an agency in Newcastle?’
‘London, probably,’ she responded swiftly, hating the need she felt to justify herself in his eyes. Why did she care what he thought of her? If Linda hadn’t seen fit to ask him to meet her, they might never have had this conversation.
Joel used the ticket he’d bought earlier to let them out of the car park, and then turned north towards Ponteland and Belsay. The sky had cleared and it was that shade of blue that seemed almost transparent. The trees were already greening with spring growth and here and there late daffodils bloomed along the hedgerows. Olivia had forgotten how beautiful the countryside could be. Living first in London and then New York, she’d become so much a city animal.
‘Um—how is my father?’ she asked at last, realising she was to blame for the uneasy silence that lay between them. She tried to adopt a humorous tone. ‘Still as irascible as ever, I suppose.’
‘He has good days and bad days, as I’m sure Linda’s told you,’ answered Joel, permitting her a rueful grin. ‘But since the stroke—’
‘The stroke?’ Olivia didn’t let him finish. ‘What stroke? Linda said nothing about a stroke.’
Joel blew out a breath. ‘Didn’t she?’ His tone was flat. ‘Well, maybe I shouldn’t have either. I dare say the old man doesn’t want it broadcasting to all and sundry.’
‘Hey, I’m not “all and sundry”!’ exclaimed Olivia, her efforts at conciliation forgotten at his words. ‘I’m his daughter. Don’t you think I have a right to know?’
Joel’s thick dark brows arched indifferently. ‘I suppose that depends on the kind of relationship you two have had over the years,’ he remarked mildly. ‘How long is it since you’ve seen him?’
Olivia huffed. ‘You know exactly how long it is. I wasn’t exactly encouraged to come back after—after we split up.’
Joel regarded her for a brief compelling moment. ‘Is that supposed to be an excuse?’
‘No.’ Olivia felt herself colouring again. ‘It’s the reason why I haven’t seen him. I have phoned, and written letters. I’ve never had a reply.’
Joel moved his shoulders in a rueful gesture. ‘I didn’t know that.’
‘No?’ Olivia wasn’t sure whether she believed him. ‘Well, why would you? I dare say you hoped you’d never set eyes on me again.’
Joel shook his head. ‘You’re wrong, Liv. I got over what you did years ago. I moved on. I got married. I had a son. I realised we were too young when we got married. Neither of us knew what we really wanted out of life.’
Olivia had to force herself not to turn and stare at him now. He had a son! Of all the things he might have said, she realised that was the least expected. And the most painful, she acknowledged as the bile caused by too many cups of black coffee rose sickly in the back of her throat.
She had to say something, she thought, aware that she was taking too long to make a rejoinder. And, dammit, why should she care if he had a child? It wasn’t as if she was the maternal type. But, all the same, it hurt. It hurt deep inside her. Like a wound that had been partially healed that was suddenly as raw and painful as the day she’d lost their son.
‘Well—good,’ she said at last, hoping he couldn’t hear the thickness of her voice. ‘But, even so, I wish Linda had warned me.’
‘I imagine she was afraid that if you knew the truth you might change your mind about coming,’ observed Joel shrewdly. ‘Ben Foley isn’t the best of patients. Without Dempsey’s help, the farm would have gone down the drain long ago.’
Olivia was surprised. ‘Martin?’ she said curiously, speaking of her sister’s husband. ‘Does he work at the farm as well as at the garden centre?’
‘They let the garden centre go,’ replied Joel, accelerating past a tractor. ‘They live at the farm now. It seemed the most sensible solution in the circumstances.’
Olivia was totally confused. When she’d gone away, Joel had virtually been running the farm for her father, and it had been understood that he’d take over when Ben Foley retired. That was one of the reasons why her father had been so angry with her when their marriage broke up. He’d depended on Joel. A lot. She caught her breath suddenly. Surely he hadn’t punished Joel because she’d walked out?
They turned a bend in the road and suddenly it was possible to glimpse the sea in the distance. Redes Bay gleamed in the early-afternoon sun, shimmering like a mirage in the desert. Bridgeford was just a mile from the sea as the crow flies. A little further than that on the twisting roads that honeycombed the area.
‘You must be hungry,’ Joel said, glancing her way again, and Olivia managed a faint smile. But the truth was she felt too knotted up inside to care about an empty stomach. Though there was no doubt she’d probably feel better if the amount of coffee she’d consumed wasn’t sloshing about inside her.
‘I expect Linda will have a meal ready for you,’ he continued. ‘She still makes the best steak and kidney pie in the neighbourhood.’
‘Does she?’ Olivia felt even queasier at the thought of all those calories. In recent years she’d become accustomed to eating sparingly, always watching her weight for any fluctuation, living on tuna fish and what her sister would call rabbit-food. The idea of sitting down to a lunch of steak and kidney pie horrified her. Even empty, as she was, she knew she’d never get it down.
‘It looks as if you could use a few extra pounds,’ remarked Joel, slowing at yet another crossroads, and Olivia wondered at his perception. It was as if he’d known exactly what she was thinking.
‘Oh, does it?’ she said, her incredulity giving way to resentment. ‘I suppose you prefer women with more flesh on their bones.’
Joel chuckled. He actually chuckled, and Olivia was furious. ‘You could say that,’ he agreed, and she badly wanted to slap him. She knew she was looking good—by New York standards, at least—and it was mortifying to have him laugh at her.
‘And I suppose your second wife was everything I’m not,’ she flung at him angrily, uncaring at that moment how peevish she sounded. ‘Well, where I come from women care about their appearance. We don’t all want to be milch cows!’
Joel sobered. ‘No, I think you proved that when you got rid of our baby,’ he retorted harshly, and she realised that for the first time she’d caught him on the raw. His jaw clamped shut for a few moments, as if suppressing another outburst, but when he spoke again he had himself in control. ‘Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything.’
Olivia swallowed, remembering she’d promised herself she wouldn’t say anything if she saw Joel either. But she couldn’t stop herself. ‘For the record,’ she said unsteadily, ‘I didn’t get rid of our baby. At the risk of repeating myself, I had a miscarriage. Believe it or not, these things happen!’
Joel’s tanned fingers tightened on the wheel and she saw his knuckles whiten at the pressure he was putting on them. ‘Whatever,’ he said flatly, but she knew he didn’t believe her now any more than he’d believed her before. ‘We’ll be there in a few minutes. I’ll drop you off and then I’ve got to get back to college.’
Olivia blinked. ‘To college?’ she echoed blankly.
‘In Newcastle,’ he agreed, without elaborating.
‘You’re at college?’ she persisted, staring at him incredulously.
‘I work at the university,’ he corrected her drily. ‘I gather Linda didn’t tell you that either.’
Olivia’s jaw dropped. ‘No.’
In actual fact, Linda hadn’t mentioned Joel at all. That was why she’d been so surprised to see him at the airport. She’d assumed she’d have to meet him sooner or later at the farm and that Linda was being tactful by putting off the evil day.
‘Have I shocked you?’
Joel had relaxed again and Olivia knew she had to say something or run the risk of appearing envious. She’d never gone to university, although she had eventually taken an economics degree at evening classes.
Not that she’d ever needed it. By the time she’d graduated, she’d already been working in a large London estate agency. Her aptitude for the job, and the fact that she got on so well with the clients, had accelerated her climb up the corporate ladder. At age twenty-six, she’d already been earning a high five-figure salary, with added perks like her one-bedroom apartment in Bloomsbury.
Of course, she reflected, she’d given it all up when Bruce Garvey asked her to marry him. Despite her success at work, her life had seemed empty, and she’d found she missed her friends and family and the life she’d had in Bridgeford. She’d even missed Joel, though she’d been sure she’d never forgive him for walking out on her.
‘I expect your parents were pleased when you left the farm,’ she said at last, hoping she didn’t sound as bitter as she felt. She moistened her lips. ‘I’m sorry. I assumed you were still working there.’
Joel shook his head. ‘I couldn’t stay after—well, after what happened.’
Olivia’s eyes went wide. ‘You mean, my father asked you to leave?’
‘Hell, no.’ Joel gave her a satirical look. ‘Not everything revolves around you, you know. I did what I should have done years ago. I took my qualifications and got myself a degree in IT at Leeds University.’
Olivia blinked. ‘IT?’
‘Information technology,’ he said patiently. ‘Computers, for want of a better word.’
Olivia pressed her shoulders back into the soft leather of the seat. ‘I see.’ She paused. ‘I’m glad things have worked out so well for you.’
‘Oh, yeah.’ Joel was sardonic now. ‘Two failed marriages and a child that might or might not have been aborted. Life’s been peachy, Liv. So how has it been for you?’

CHAPTER TWO (#uad9d4332-a307-5d5f-8616-0e1c227fad19)
FORTUNATELY, Olivia was saved the need of answering him. They’d reached Bridgeford and the Lexus splashed through the ford at the edge of the village before accelerating up the slope to the village green. She could pretend she hadn’t heard him, pretend she hadn’t been knocked off balance by the callousness of his words. Struggling with emotions she didn’t even want to acknowledge, she looked instead at the Georgian homes and the handful of cottages that circled the village green. As a shiver of remembered agony slid down her spine, the beauty of her surroundings was a blessed panacea.
The village, at least, didn’t seem to have changed much, she thought gratefully, although she could see the roofs of some new houses just visible beyond the trees in the churchyard. There were daffodils blooming here, too, and the almond blossom was just beginning to appear.
‘Do your parents still live in the village?’ she asked a little stiffly, feeling obliged to say something. The Armstrongs had never approved of Joel’s relationship with her, and even after they were married Olivia had been left in no doubt that Mrs Armstrong didn’t consider her good enough for her son.
‘My father’s retired now,’ replied Joel amiably enough. Mr Armstrong was an accountant and had used to work for a firm in Chevingham, a small town some ten miles south of Bridgeford. ‘They still own the house in Blades Lane,’ he added, ‘but they’ve recently bought a place in Spain. They spend a lot of time there in the winter months. They’re in El Fuente at present, actually.’
Which explained a lot, thought Olivia cynically. She wondered if Joel would have been so willing to come and meet her if he’d had to explain himself to his parents first.
They passed the house Joel’s parents owned on their way to the farm. Rose Cottage was set a few yards back from the road, screened by a tangle of wild roses that blossomed profusely in the season.
It reminded Olivia irresistibly of when she and Joel were teenagers. How many times had she come running down from the farm to find him waiting for her at his gate? They’d both attended the comprehensive school in Chevingham and the school bus used to pick them up at the end of Blades Lane.
Of course, Joel had been a year older, and once they’d got to school there’d been no opportunity to be together. Was that why their relationship had progressed so swiftly? she wondered. Had the excitement of forbidden fruit coloured that youthful infatuation?
‘Does everything look the same?’ Joel asked abruptly, and Olivia was grateful for the reprieve. She’d been in danger of remembering things that were best forgotten. As Joel said, they’d both moved on.
‘Pretty much,’ she said after a moment, forcing herself to take an interest in her surroundings. They were turning between white-painted gateposts now, crossing a cattle-grid that caused the vehicle’s wheels to vibrate, and then accelerating up the drive to the farmhouse itself.
When the Lexus stopped, Olivia knew the journey was over. However, she felt—and she really wasn’t feeling very good—she had to get out of the car and face whatever was to come. It would have been nice, she thought, if her father had invited her here. But it was Linda who’d suggested this visit. Linda, who’d told her so little of what to expect.
‘You OK?’
She realised that Joel was looking at her now, probably wondering why she hadn’t opened her door. And, dammit, she so didn’t want to show him how she was feeling. Joel, with his new career and his precious son.
So, ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ she answered, with assumed lightness. She gathered her handbag into her arms and reached for the door handle. ‘Thanks for the ride, Joel. It’s been—illuminating.’
Now, why had she said that? she chided herself impatiently, as Joel’s eyes narrowed on her face. ‘Why do I get the feeling that you’re mad at me?’ he countered, but before Olivia could say anything else, Linda came out of the house.
At once, Olivia fumbled with the door catch, as eager to get away from Joel as she was to greet her sister. But she was all thumbs and, without asking her permission, Joel leant past her and thrust the door open for her, the hard strength of his forearm pressing briefly against her breasts.
She scrambled out then, dropping down from the high seat, almost ricking her ankle in her haste to get away from him. Steadying herself against the wing, she mentally squared her shoulders before starting a little uncertainly across the forecourt.
‘Hi, Linda,’ she said, in what she hoped was a confident tone. ‘It’s good to see you.’
Her sister shook her head and Olivia was surprised to see tears in her eyes. ‘Oh, Livvy, it’s good to see you, too,’ she exclaimed eagerly and, opening her arms, she gathered the other girl into a welcoming hug.
Olivia was shocked. She hadn’t expected such a warm greeting. Linda had never been a touchy-feely kind of person and when they were younger any contact between them had always been initiated by Olivia herself.
But evidently the years had mellowed her, and when she drew back she regarded Olivia with what appeared to be genuine affection. ‘I’m so pleased you decided to come,’ she said. ‘This is still your home, you know.’
Olivia was trying to absorb this when Linda’s eyes moved beyond her to where Joel was standing beside the Lexus. ‘Thanks, Joel,’ she added. ‘We owe you, big time.’ She paused. ‘You’ll come in and see Dad, won’t you?’
‘Not right now,’ said Joel, opening the back of the car and hauling out Olivia’s suitcase. ‘I’ve got a tutorial at four o’clock, I’m afraid.’
A tutorial!
So he was a lecturer, no less. If Olivia was surprised, Linda clearly wasn’t, going to take charge of Olivia’s luggage without further argument. ‘Well, come back soon,’ she said, as he climbed back into the vehicle. ‘Just because Livvy’s here, you don’t have to be a stranger.’
‘Yeah, right.’
If Joel’s response was less enthusiastic, Linda didn’t seem to notice it, and, with an inclination of his head towards Olivia, he reversed the car across the yard. Still cringing from the childish name her sister had always called her, Olivia was motionless, and it wasn’t until he’d driven away that she realised she hadn’t even waved goodbye.
Pulling herself together, she went to rescue her suitcase from her sister. ‘I can take that,’ she said, but Linda wouldn’t let it go.
‘In those heels?’ she asked, with just a trace of the animosity that had blighted Olivia’s childhood after their mother died. ‘No, I can manage. Come along. I’ve warned Dad to expect you.’
‘You didn’t warn me that he’d had a stroke,’ ventured Olivia as she climbed the shallow steps after her, and Linda’s back stiffened in what might have been resentment.
‘I thought it was wiser,’ she said as they entered the square hall of the farmhouse. She set the suitcase down at the foot of the stairs and then went on, ‘You know how sensitive he’s always been about his health. And if he’d thought you were only coming here because he was ill…’
‘I suppose.’ Olivia shrugged, half understanding her reasoning. ‘So how is he? Joel said very little.’
‘Oh, he’s improving every day,’ Linda assured her. ‘But you’ll soon see for yourself.’ She paused. ‘You, on the other hand, look half-starved. I suppose you’re on one of those fancy diets.’
Olivia caught her breath. ‘I’m fine,’ she said, wishing she dared say that obviously Linda didn’t worry about her weight.
‘Oh, well, you know best, I dare say,’ remarked Linda carelessly. ‘Come on. We’ll go and see Dad before I show you your room. His bed’s in the old morning room. It saves him having to climb the stairs. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve given you Mum’s old sewing room. Jayne and Andrew have our old rooms and Martin and I are sleeping in the main bedroom at present.’
Olivia nodded. She didn’t much care where she slept. She had the feeling she wouldn’t be staying very long. But she had forgotten about her niece and nephew, who’d been little more than babies when she’d left Bridgeford. Jayne must be eighteen now, with Andrew a year younger. Jayne was the same age as she’d been when she’d married Joel, she reflected incredulously.
‘So are the children in school?’ she asked as Linda led the way across the hall, and her sister turned to give her an old-fashioned look.
‘You’ve got to be kidding!’ she exclaimed. ‘Jayne works at a dress shop in Chevingham. She’s doing really well, actually. And Andy’s probably gone into Alnwick with his father. Martin said he needed to pick up a new rotor arm for the tractor.’
Olivia couldn’t hide her surprise. ‘I see.’
‘I suppose you think we should have encouraged them to continue their education as you did,’ went on Linda, a note of aggression in her voice now. ‘Well, it didn’t do you much good, did it? For all Dad scraped and saved to let you stay on at school, you just upped and married Joel Armstrong as soon as you were eighteen.’
Olivia was taken aback. She hadn’t known her father had had to scrape and save to let her stay on to take her A levels.
All the same…
‘In any case, we don’t have a lot of money to throw around, Livvy,’ Linda continued. ‘What with losing the cattle to foot-and-mouth, it’s been a struggle, I can tell you. We got some compensation from the government, but it’s never enough. That’s why Martin’s trying to persuade Dad to diversify—’
She broke off abruptly at that point and Olivia couldn’t decide whether Linda thought she’d said too much or because they were nearing her father’s door and she didn’t want him to hear what she was saying. Whatever, she lifted a finger to her lips before she turned the handle, putting her head around the door before advancing cheerfully into the room.
‘Dad,’ Olivia heard her say in a sing-song voice as she followed her in. ‘You’re awake. That’s good.’ She glanced behind her. ‘Livvy’s here.’
Her father made some kind of gruff response, but Olivia could barely hear it. However, when she managed to circle her sister’s bulk to see the man who was lying in an armchair by the windows, a rug covering his bony knees, she thought she could understand why. The stroke had evidently left one side of Ben Foley’s face paralysed and his hair was completely grey. When he spoke he did so with apparent difficulty.
‘Hi, Dad,’ she said, very conscious of Linda’s eyes watching her. She struggled to hide the shock she felt as she went closer and bent down to kiss his lined cheek. Then she forced a smile. ‘It’s been a long time.’
Ben Foley grunted. ‘Whose fault is that?’ he got out thickly, and she was relieved that she could understand him.
‘Mine, I guess,’ she said, although she doubted he would have welcomed her back any sooner. When she’d lost the baby her father, like Joel, hadn’t believed her explanation. And, when he’d heard she and Joel were splitting up, he’d told her to find somewhere else to live.
She wondered now if he’d have felt the same if he’d known Joel was going to leave the farm. They’d been sharing the house with her father and, although it wasn’t the best arrangement, it had been all they could afford at that time. Joel had already moved out of the house, but she guessed her father had hoped he’d come back after her departure. Perhaps he had, but not for long. It must have been a bitter pill for Ben Foley to swallow.
Trying to put the past behind her, she went on, ‘Well, I’m here now, Dad. So how are you feeling?’
‘How do I look?’ demanded her father, with a little of his old irascibility, and Linda bustled forward to lay a conciliatory hand on his shoulder.
‘Livvy’s only showing concern for your welfare,’ she said soothingly, but Olivia couldn’t help wishing she’d leave them alone. ‘Now, do you want some tea? I’ll make us all a cup while Livvy settles in.’
Ben Foley scowled. ‘I thought she’d come to see me,’ he muttered, giving his younger daughter a look from beneath a drooping eyelid.
‘I have,’ began Olivia, but once again Linda intervened.
‘You’ll have plenty of time to talk to Livvy later,’ she said firmly, tucking the rug more securely about him. ‘Come along,’ she added to her sister. ‘I’ll show you where you’re going to sleep.’

Joel slept badly and was up before seven the next morning, making himself a pot of coffee in the sleek modern kitchen of his house.
The house was large, but graceful, situated in a village just half a dozen miles from Bridgeford, where his ex-wife still lived. He’d bought it, ironically enough, after he and Louise had broken up. With four bedrooms and three bathrooms, it was really too big for his needs, but it meant Sean could come and stay whenever he liked.
He came fairly often, for weekends and holidays. Joel and Louise had had a fairly amicable divorce, both admitting they’d made a mistake in rushing into marriage. Louise had married again, and, although Joel wasn’t overly fond of her new partner, he had been forced to concede that Sean should make his permanent home with them.
Still wearing nothing but the cotton boxers he’d slept in, Joel moved to the kitchen window, staring out over the large garden that happily he employed a gardener to keep in order. An expanse of lawn, where he and Sean played football, stretched away to a hedge of conifers, and beyond the hedge there were fields where sheep and their newborn lambs grazed.
It was all very peaceful, but Joel felt anything but untroubled at the present time. The smooth tenor of his life had been disturbed, and no matter how often he told himself that Olivia’s return meant nothing to him, he couldn’t quite make himself believe it.
Seeing her again had definitely unsettled him. When he’d agreed to go and meet her, he’d anticipated coming away with a certain smug satisfaction that he’d done the right thing all those years ago. What he’d expected, he realised, was that the image he’d kept of her all this time would have been flawed by age and experience. But it wasn’t true. Instead, she was just as lovely, just as sexy, as he remembered.
Which annoyed the hell out of him. Dammit, just because she’d taken care of her appearance didn’t change the woman she was inside. The most beautiful creatures in the world could be deadly. Even so…
He scowled, rubbing his free hand over his jaw that was already rough with stubble. Then, swallowing a mouthful of his coffee, he turned away from the window and started towards the door. He needed a shave and a shower, not necessarily in that order. He’d probably feel better if he could look at himself without immediately noticing the bags beneath his eyes.
He’d made it as far as the stairs when the doorbell rang. He glanced at his wrist, realised he wasn’t wearing his watch, and cursed under his breath. What the hell time was it? Not later than seven-thirty, surely. It had to be the mail, but he wasn’t expecting any parcels as far as he knew.
He set his cup down on the second stair and trudged back to the door. The wooden floor was cold beneath his bare feet and he wished he’d stopped to put on a robe. But who knew he was going to have to face a visitor? he thought irritably. Particularly this morning, when he was feeling so bloody grumpy to begin with.
The door was solid oak so he couldn’t see who it was until he’d released the deadlock and swung it open. Then his eyes widened and he stared disbelievingly at the child who was standing outside.
‘Sean!’ he exclaimed blankly. But then, noticing that the boy was shivering, Joel hurriedly stepped back and invited him in. He closed the door as Sean moved inside, dropping a backpack he’d been carrying on the floor. His brows drew together. ‘How the hell did you get here?’
Sean shrugged. He was tall for his age, lean and wiry, with Joel’s dark hair and colouring and his mother’s blue eyes. He was approaching his eleventh birthday, and in recent months Joel had noticed he’d developed an increasingly stubborn attitude.
‘I caught the bus,’ he said at last, moving into the kitchen. ‘Got any cola?’
Joel paused in the doorway, watching as his son took a can of cola out of the fridge and flipped the tab. ‘There are no buses this early in the day,’ he said, as Sean swallowed thirstily. ‘Does your mother know you’re here?’
‘She will soon,’ said Sean, removing the can from his lips and glancing about him. ‘Can I have something to eat?’
Joel sucked in a breath. ‘What does that mean, exactly? She will soon.’ He repeated what his son had said. ‘Come on, you might as well tell me.’
Sean shrugged. ‘I’ve left home,’ he said, opening the fridge door again and pulling out a pack of bacon. ‘Can I make myself a sandwich? I’m really hungry.’
Joel stared at him. ‘Hold it,’ he said. ‘Before we go any further, I want you to explain how you got here and why your mother doesn’t know yet. Then I’ll ring her and put her mind at rest.’
‘I shouldn’t bother.’
Sean was fiddling with the plastic wrapper of the bacon but before he could go any further his father stepped forward and snatched it out of his hands. ‘Answers, Sean,’ he said. ‘Then we can talk about breakfast. Why are you shivering? For God’s sake, have you been out all night?’
‘No.’ Sean was indignant, but Joel didn’t believe him.
‘So where have you been?’ he demanded.
‘I can walk, you know.’ Sean hunched his shoulders. And then, seeing his father’s expression, ‘All right, I spent the night in the barn up the road.’ He grimaced as Joel showed his horror. ‘It wasn’t so bad. There was some straw in the loft and a horse blanket. It smelled a bit, but it wasn’t bad.’
Joel stared at him. ‘So how come your mother doesn’t know yet?’
‘How’d you think? She and the hulk went out last night and they don’t usually check on me when they come in.’
‘Don’t call Stewart “the hulk”,’ said Joel, though he had to admit Louise’s second husband did have a beer belly. ‘And what are you saying? That they went out and left you in the house on your own?’
‘Hey, I’m old enough,’ protested Sean, eyeing the bacon enviously. ‘Look, couldn’t we just have something to eat before you phone Mum?’
Joel hesitated, then he tossed the bacon back to him. ‘I’ll ring your mother,’ he said resignedly. ‘Don’t set the place on fire.’
‘Thanks, Dad.’ Sean grinned now. ‘D’you want some, too?’
His father shook his head. ‘I’m going to take a shower after I’ve made that call. If you’re cold, just adjust the thermostat on the Aga. You know how, don’t you?’
Receiving his son’s assurance that he did indeed know how to adjust the stove which heated the entire house, Joel went across the hall to the stairs again and rescued his coffee. As expected, it was cool now, but he intended to ring Louise before doing anything else. And from his bedroom. He had no intention of allowing Sean to listen in.
His ex-wife answered the phone with a note of irritation in her voice. ‘Yes?’ she said, and Joel guessed she’d probably had a late night. For the first time, he resented the fact that she and Stewart had custody of Sean. What kind of role models was he being faced with every day?
‘It’s me,’ he said abruptly. ‘Do you know where Sean is?’
‘Still in bed, I expect.’ Louise didn’t sound worried. ‘I’ve banged on his door and told him he won’t have time for any breakfast, but does he listen? No way. Anyway, if you want to speak to him, Joel, you’ll have to wait until tonight.’
The temptation to say ‘OK’ and ring off was appealing, but the last thing Joel needed was for Stewart Barlow to accuse him of kidnapping his son. ‘He’s not in bed, he’s here,’ he said, without preamble. ‘As you’d know, Louise, if you’d bothered to check on him last night.’
Louise was briefly silenced. She wasn’t used to Joel criticising her and he guessed she was wondering how to respond. ‘Are you saying he’s been with you since yesterday evening?’ she demanded, after a moment. ‘Don’t you think you should have taken the trouble to let me know before this?’
‘How do you know I didn’t ring last night?’ asked Joel flatly.
Another silence. Then, ‘So he has been with you all night? Oh, Joel—’
‘No.’ Joel interrupted her. ‘I was only making the point that you weren’t there, even if I had phoned.’ He sighed. ‘I thought children had to be at least thirteen before being left alone.’
Louise sighed. ‘We weren’t out for long—’
‘Even so…’
‘What’s he been telling you?’ She sounded suspicious now. ‘He can be a little monkey, you know.’
‘I know.’ Joel was reluctant, but he had to be honest. ‘As a matter of fact, he only arrived on my doorstep a few minutes ago.’
‘So where did he spend the night?’ She sounded worried now.
‘He says in a neighbour’s barn.’
‘My God!’ Louise was horrified. Then she hesitated. ‘So why didn’t he come to you last night?’
‘I’m afraid I was out, too,’ said Joel unwillingly. ‘I had a meeting at the college. I didn’t get back until late.’
‘So you weren’t part of the welcome-home committee for Olivia Foley?’ teased Louise, not without a touch of jealousy. ‘I expect you’ve heard she’s come back to see her father.’
Joel quelled his impatience. He had no desire to discuss Olivia’s return with his ex-wife. ‘If I’d known Sean was likely to turn up, I’d have been here,’ he retorted shortly. ‘And I don’t think you should have left him alone in the house.’
‘I don’t, usually.’ Louise was defensive. ‘But Stewart wanted to go out and I didn’t think there was any harm in it. We were only down the road, for goodness’ sake! If he’d needed anything, he had the pub’s number.’
‘Whatever.’ Joel wasn’t prepared to discuss it over the phone. ‘Look, I haven’t had time to talk to him yet. I need to find out why he decided to do a bunk. Give me the rest of the day, can you? I’ll give you a ring tonight.’
‘But what about school?’
‘He can take a day off, can’t he? It wouldn’t be the first time, I’m sure.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Nothing.’ Joel backed off. ‘Come on, Louise. Give the kid a break.’
Louise was obviously not happy about the situation, but she decided not to be awkward. Perhaps she was afraid Joel might report her to the authorities. The custody order could be changed in his favour if he chose to complain.
‘Well, OK,’ she said at last. ‘But I think you should bring him home tonight.’
‘We’ll see.’
Joel didn’t argue, but he didn’t promise anything either. He still had to find out why Sean had chosen to run away.
Fortunately, he only had one tutorial this morning and he could take his son to the university with him. Sean could play on the computer in his office while he was in the lecture hall.
His coffee was cold now, and, putting it aside, he studied his reflection in the mirror above the bathroom basin. He didn’t look good, he thought ruefully. He looked as if it were him, and not Louise, who’d had a heavy night.
He wondered now why he’d married her in the first place. It wasn’t on the rebound. Well, not precisely, anyway. After Olivia left, he’d wasted no time before applying for a place at university, and the next four years had passed with the minimum amount of pain.
It wasn’t until he’d returned to Bridgeford that the whole sorry mess of his marriage to Olivia had come back to haunt him. Had he thought that marrying someone else and having a child would make him happy? It hadn’t, although the son they’d had meant everything to him. And he was determined to ensure that Sean didn’t suffer because of his mistakes.

CHAPTER THREE (#uad9d4332-a307-5d5f-8616-0e1c227fad19)
OLIVIA was in her room, sorting through the clothes she’d brought with her and wondering whether a trip to the nearest town for reinforcements was needed, when Jayne knocked at the door.
Since her arrival a few days ago, her niece had become a frequent visitor, always making some excuse for disturbing her, finding reasons to stop and chat. Olivia guessed the girl found the fact that her aunt had lived in New York for several years fascinating, and her obvious admiration was reassuring in the face of her brother-in-law’s hostility.
Not that Olivia had seen that much of Martin Dempsey, thank goodness! Apart from the evening meal, which they all shared, he spent much of his time outdoors.
‘Hi,’ Jayne said now, coming into the room at her aunt’s summons and casting an envious eye over the clothes spread out on the bed. The girl was tall and slim, much like Olivia herself, but her hair was russet-coloured, like her father’s, and her features were almost completely his. ‘Oh, my, what are you doing?’ She fingered the ruched sleeve of an ivory tulle shirt. ‘You have such beautiful clothes.’
‘Thanks. I think.’ Olivia pulled a wry face. ‘I was just wondering if I ought to buy myself some jeans and a couple of T-shirts. I didn’t bring a lot of clothes with me and those I have brought don’t seem appropriate somehow.’
‘Who says?’
Jayne spoke indignantly, but Olivia could tell she wasn’t really interested. And Olivia knew better than to say the girl’s father resented her being here. Martin apparently didn’t like women who showed any independence, and her clothes seemed to be an added source of aggravation.
Jayne perched herself on the end of the bed and regarded her aunt consideringly. ‘Can I ask you something?’
‘You can ask.’ Olivia was half amused.
‘Well, were you really married to Joel Armstrong?’ she ventured, and Olivia was taken aback.
‘Yes,’ she said at last, warily. ‘Why do you want to know?’
‘Oh…’ Jayne looked a little embarrassed now. ‘I just wondered. I mean, Mum said you were and I believed her. But since I’ve got to know you, you don’t seem the type to—well, play around.’
‘Play around?’ Olivia caught her breath. Was that what they’d told her?
‘Yeah, you know. There was another man, wasn’t there? Or so Mum says.’
‘There was no other man.’ Olivia spoke tersely. ‘We were just—not compatible. It didn’t work out. That’s all.’
‘Really?’ Jayne stared at her. ‘Cos, like, he’s really hot, don’t you think? Or no, I suppose you don’t. But he drives that really powerful SUV, and I think he’s, like, totally the man!’
Olivia was stunned. Did Linda know her daughter thought of Joel in this way? Obviously she didn’t share her confidences, and the last thing Olivia needed was one of his groupies on her own doorstep.
‘I think I ought to finish sorting these things,’ she said at length, not wanting to offend the girl, but not wanting to continue this conversation either. For heaven’s sake, Joel was old enough to be Jayne’s father.
‘Oh—yes.’ The girl got up from the bed now and pressed her fingers to her mouth. ‘I’ve just remembered. Grandad wants to see you.’ She pulled a face. ‘He said to say he’d like you to come down.’
Olivia didn’t know whether to be glad of the invitation or sorry. She’d been looking forward to finishing this task and then taking a bath. She’d discovered it wasn’t wise to expect to have the bathroom to herself in the mornings. Someone was always hammering on the door, asking how long she was going to be.
‘OK,’ she said now, and, seeing Jayne admiring a silk camisole, she picked it up and tossed it across the bed. Perhaps it would take her mind off other things, she thought hopefully. ‘It’s yours,’ she told her when Jayne looked up at her with disbelieving eyes. ‘If you’d like it.’
‘Would I?’ Jayne was evidently delighted, cradling the scrap of lace to her chest. ‘Thanks so much, Aunt Livvy,’ she added gratefully. ‘I’ve never worn anything as sexy as this.’
Olivia managed a faint smile at her pleasure, and, passing the girl, she opened the door and allowed her to precede her from the room. But she hoped it wouldn’t prove another black mark against her. With a bit of luck, Martin Dempsey might never find out.
Downstairs, she bypassed the dining room, where Linda and Martin were still sitting. She could hear their voices, though not what they were saying, and instead she made her way along the hall to her father’s room. She’d visited him several times in the last few days, but this was the first time she’d been on her own. Usually, either Linda or Jayne was with her, ostensibly to ensure that the old man didn’t upset her.
Tonight, however, Jayne had scurried off to her room. Probably to try on the new camisole. Which meant Olivia entered her father’s room without an escort, feeling almost conspiratorial in consequence.
He wasn’t in his chair tonight, he was in the bed across the room, and, closing the door behind her, Olivia crossed the floor. ‘Hello,’ she said, when she saw his eyes were open. ‘How are you tonight?’
‘Better for seeing you,’ he muttered, and, although his words were slurred, they were perfectly audible. ‘I see you managed to shake off your watchdog.’ He lifted his good arm and gestured for her to take the chair nearest to him. ‘Come and sit down where I can see you.’
Olivia didn’t know if he was joking about her having a watchdog, but she acknowledged that Linda and Martin did want to know where she was every minute of the day. ‘Thanks,’ she said, deciding not to take him up on it. ‘I must admit, I’ve wondered how you felt about me coming back.’
Her father frowned. ‘Because of what happened with young Armstrong?’ he demanded.
‘Well, yes.’
He nodded. ‘That was all a long time ago.’
‘You never answered any of my letters,’ she reminded him painfully. ‘According to Linda, you rarely mentioned my name.’
‘Yes, well, we all make mistakes, Liv. Mine was in not seeing you were too headstrong to take any advice from me.’
Olivia sighed. ‘If it’s any consolation, I haven’t exactly made a success of my life.’
‘No?’ Her father’s lids twitched in surprise. ‘I heard you were doing well in London. Of course, then you upped and went off to America with that man, Garvey. I gather that marriage wasn’t happy either.’
Olivia bent her head. For a moment she’d been tempted to say that her marriage to Joel Armstrong had been happy. Until she’d discovered she was pregnant, that was, and panic had set in.
She could remember well how she’d felt at that time. It wasn’t how she’d have felt now, but that was irrelevant. Then, all she could think was that they were both too young to have a baby, that they couldn’t afford another mouth to feed. She’d wanted Joel’s baby, of course she had. She’d spent hours—days—trying to find a way out of their dilemma that wouldn’t entail her losing the child. Like any other would-be mother, she’d fantasised about what it would look like, whether it would take after him. But the problems had seemed insurmountable at first. After all, they could barely support themselves.
But her father wouldn’t want to hear that. He and Joel had been on the same side and she had no intention of trying to change his mind now. So instead, she said, ‘I should never have married Bruce. I made the mistake of thinking that because he said he loved me, I’d have everything I’d ever wanted.’
‘Was he wealthy?’
Olivia shrugged. ‘I suppose so.’
‘Was that really why you married him?’
‘No.’ Olivia shook her head. ‘Believe it or not, I was lonely. I needed someone who’d care about me. He was smart and good-looking and it seemed like a good idea at the time.’
‘You were lonely?’ Her father picked up on that. ‘So why didn’t you come home?’
‘I didn’t think I’d be welcome,’ she confessed honestly. ‘And—well, I assumed Joel would still be here.’
‘He left. A couple of weeks after you went to London.’
‘Yes, I know that now. But not then.’
‘Linda kept in touch with you, didn’t she?’
‘Yes.’ But her reports were decidedly selective, Olivia thought, though she didn’t say so. ‘Anyway, it’s all in the past, as you say.’
‘So tell me about this man you married. Bruce Garvey. What went wrong? Did he treat you badly?’
‘No.’ Olivia sighed. ‘It’s a long story, Dad.’
Her father made an impatient gesture. ‘Well, I’m not going anywhere, as you can see.’
‘Why not?’ Olivia used his words to try and change the subject. ‘Don’t you have a wheelchair? Don’t you ever go outside?’
‘I don’t want a wheelchair,’ retorted the old man grumpily. ‘Bloody things. They’re for invalids. I’m not an invalid. I’m just—stuck here, that’s all.’
‘In other words, you are an invalid,’ said Olivia, without trying to be tactful. She knew her father of old. He could be totally stubborn, even at the risk of cutting off his nose to spite his face.
‘And d’ you think I want everyone to know that?’ he snapped shortly. ‘It’s all right for you, coming here and telling me what to do. I don’t want anyone to see I can hardly stand, let alone walk!’
‘I should think everyone knows that already,’ replied Olivia practically. ‘This is a small village, Dad. People know you. People care what happens to you.’
‘Yes, well, I don’t need their pity,’ said her father, mopping at the trail of saliva that trickled from the paralysed side of his mouth. ‘Nor yours, either,’ he muttered. ‘If that’s all you’ve got to say to me, you can go.’
Olivia sighed. ‘All right, all right. We won’t talk about it.’ She smoothed her palms over the knees of her trousers. ‘I didn’t come here to upset you.’ She paused. ‘Actually Jayne said you wanted to see me.’
‘Hmmph.’ The old man relaxed again. ‘Well, why wouldn’t I want to see my daughter? You’re a sight for sore eyes, and that’s a fact.’
Olivia smiled. ‘Thank you.’
‘Don’t thank me. You were always the beauty of the family. And the brains, more’s the pity!’
‘Dad!’
‘Well, you must know Linda and Martin are running the show around here while I’m—while I can’t.’ Olivia nodded, and he went on, ‘So what do you think of their bright idea?’
Olivia frowned, not at all sure she ought to ask it, but doing so anyway. ‘What bright idea?’
The door opening behind them and Linda bursting into the room drowned out any reply the old man might have made. ‘Dad!’ she exclaimed crossly. ‘And Olivia. I thought you were in your room.’ She turned back to her father. ‘You know you’re supposed to be resting. Anything you have to say to Olivia can wait until tomorrow, I’m sure.’

Olivia was up early the next morning. She’d had enough of being confined to the farm and she intended to catch the bus into Newcastle and spend the day doing some shopping. She also intended to find an agency and hire a car, though she kept that part of her plans to herself.
‘Couldn’t you get what you want in Chevingham?’ Linda exclaimed, when she heard what her sister intended to do. ‘Andy could give you a lift in the Land Rover. That would save you having to take the bus.’
‘Thanks, but I prefer to go into Newcastle,’ said Olivia politely, still feeling some resentment towards Linda for the way she’d behaved the night before. She’d acted as if Olivia had had no right to go and sit with her father. Not without clearing it with her first.
And, of course, any chance of further private conversation with him had been over. Although he’d protested, Linda had been adamant that he’d had enough visitors for one day. Olivia had only had time to squeeze his hand and tell him she’d see him later, before her sister had bustled her out of the room.
It was strange being back in the city after so many years had passed. It seemed so different, so modern, the alterations that had only been in the planning stage when she left now making the centre of town a vibrant, exciting place to visit.
She found a café and, after ordering an Americano, she took a seat in the window overlooking a shopping mall. It was a relief to be away from the farm and drinking a decent cup of coffee again. The instant brand Linda favoured was so bitter in comparison.
Revitalised, she left the café and spent some time exploring the shops. There were certainly plenty to choose from and, despite what Jayne had said, Olivia bought jeans and a couple of T-shirts, as well as a pair of combat boots to wear around the farm. The boots looked incongruous with the suede jacket and matching fringed skirt she’d worn to come to town, and she was laughing with the assistant when she looked through the shop window—straight into Joel Armstrong’s eyes.
She couldn’t help it. Her eyes widened and her breath caught somewhere in the back of her throat, so that when the assistant spoke again she found it very hard to answer her.
‘Um—yes. Yes, I’ll take them,’ she said, knowing the girl was looking at her strangely. ‘Thanks,’ she added, quickly slipping her feet into the high-heeled pumps she’d taken off to try the boots on.
She was at the counter, paying for the boots with her credit card, when she became aware that Joel had entered the shop. It wasn’t that he’d spoken to her or done anything to announce his presence; it was just a premonition she had that it was him.
It was madness but she could feel him near her, sensed the pressure of the air had changed since he came in. She wanted to turn and look at him, to ensure herself that she wasn’t mistaken. God, she was going to be so disappointed if she was wrong.
But she wasn’t wrong. When her purchase was completed and she could justifiably collect the bag containing her boots and turn around, he was there waiting for her. ‘Hi,’ he said as she crossed the shop towards him, and once again her stomach started its crazy plunge.
He looked so good, she thought helplessly. Even in a worn corded jacket with leather patches at the elbows, he looked big and dark and disturbingly familiar. His jeans hugged his legs, worn in places she knew she shouldn’t be looking. And, goodness, she shouldn’t be so glad to see him.
‘Hi,’ she answered in return, uncertain what to do next. ‘Are you looking for shoes, too?’
‘Do I look as if I need to?’ he countered humorously as they stepped outside, drawing her eyes to the scuffed deck shoes he was wearing. ‘No. You know I’m not.’ His eyes skimmed her face. ‘Are you on your own?’
Olivia nodded. ‘Are you?’
‘Until half-past two, when I’ve got to see one of my students,’ he agreed, his warm breath fanning her cheek. ‘Have you had lunch?’
Olivia swallowed. ‘No.’
‘So—d’ you want to get a sandwich with me?’
There was nothing Olivia would have liked more, but she knew getting involved with Joel again was dangerous. She’d been sure she was so over him. Now she had goose-bumps just because he’d invited her to lunch.
‘Well—I was going to see about renting a car,’ she said lamely, and knew immediately from his expression that he wasn’t fooled by her excuse.
‘In other words, you’d rather not,’ he said, lifting one shoulder dismissively. ‘OK.’ He paused. ‘Some other time, perhaps.’
‘No, wait!’ As he would have turned away, she caught his sleeve and stopped him. ‘I—I can see about renting a car after lunch. And I’ve got to eat. So—why not with you? If the offer’s still good.’
Joel regarded her consideringly, wondering if he wouldn’t be wiser to just call it a day. He still wasn’t sure why he’d asked her, why he wanted to prolong what could only be an awkward interlude in his day.
‘I get the feeling you’re just humouring me,’ he said, and her hand dropped quickly from his arm.
‘I’m not. ’Olivia’s tongue circled her dry lips. ‘I just didn’t think it through, that’s all.’ She paused, and then added huskily, ‘I didn’t want you to feel—obliged to ask me.’
‘Why would I feel that?’
He wasn’t making it easy for her, and Olivia wondered now if he had had second thoughts. ‘You know what I mean,’ she said defensively.
Joel shook his head. ‘I assume you mean because of what we once had.’ His eyes darkened. He wouldn’t let her humble him. ‘Liv, I’ve told you already, I’m long past caring what you did or didn’t do.’
Olivia wanted to scream. It wasn’t fair, she thought. She’d done nothing wrong. Did he think she had no feelings at all?
But Joel wasn’t finished. ‘If you can’t see I was only being civil,’ he declared tersely, ‘then perhaps we should just go our separate ways.’
Well, that was certainly telling her, he thought, refusing to back down. But, seeing the flush of colour that swept into her cheeks at his words, he couldn’t help wondering why he felt this need to punish her. She’d inadvertently saved him from himself, hadn’t she? He’d never have been satisfied with working at the farm permanently. And how could he have been able to afford four years at college if he’d had a wife and child to support?
‘If that’s what you want,’ she said now, and in spite of himself, Joel couldn’t let her go.
‘It’s not what I want,’ he said between clenched teeth. ‘For God’s sake, I asked you, didn’t I? I just never thought such a simple request would result in this inquisition.’
Olivia sighed. ‘I’m sorry.’
So was Joel. But not for the same reason.
‘So—where would you like to go?’ she asked, and Joel jammed his balled fists into his pockets. Bed, he thought savagely, an insane image of Olivia spread-eagled on his sheets, her silky hair draped across his pillow, suddenly front and centre in his mind. ‘It’s very busy,’ she went on. ‘Do you think you’ll have time?’
Another opportunity, but Joel didn’t take it. ‘How about buying a sandwich and eating it outdoors?’ he suggested. ‘Lots of people do that.’
‘OK.’
She was annoyingly cooperative and as they walked to the nearby sandwich bar Joel reminded himself that he’d engineered this meeting, not her. He’d be far more convincing if he behaved pleasantly. Allowing her to bug him, to make him angry, would only convince her he wasn’t as indifferent to her as he claimed.

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