‘How very decent of him,’ Louise Sadler said, in her usual understated manner. ‘I somehow got the impression that he was prepared to support you financially, but personally finding a house he thought you would like...’
‘It’s nothing at all like that, Mother,’ Susie rushed in hastily.
To the outsider it might seem beyond the call of duty, but she knew better. She had seen just how overwhelmingly obliging he could be when something was personally at stake for him.
Supermarket shopping, which he loathed, to placate her because he wanted her in his bed.
A house he knew she would like because she was having his baby, and there was no way he was going to let her remain in the hovel or, worse, retreat up to Yorkshire, miles away from his sphere of influence. Not with his child. No way.
‘The car—yes, I can fully understand that, darling. You really would need something to get around in. But you’re telling me that he chose all the fittings for this dream house of yours...?’
‘He employed someone to choose all the fittings. He just gave them some vague idea and allowed them to run with it. You can do that when money is no object. And I never said that it was my dream house,’ she pointed out, gazing at the keys to the house, which lay on the sofa next to her. ‘My dream house would never be in London.’
‘Well, he’s been very perceptive, managing to locate something in London that gets close...’
‘Luck.’
‘It took Daddy and I ages to find the flat...’
‘We don’t have the sort of relationship where he pops down to the estate agency so that he can sit with them and look through glossy brochures of houses for me,’ Susie said heavily.
She felt that it was time to address certain assumptions before they could blossom into huge inaccuracies.
‘Sergio and I had lots of fun, Mother, but it would have fizzled out if this...this situation hadn’t occurred...’
There was a telling silence down the line and old feelings of being a let-down, a crashing disappointment, swept over her—even though she had had a chance to re-evaluate the accuracy of those feelings. Old habits died hard, she thought, chewing her lip and waiting for her mother to break the awkward silence.
‘That’s how it is these days,’ said Louise Sadler eventually, and sighed. ‘Nothing’s perfect, my darling. As long as you feel able to cope as a single mother, then that’s the main thing.’
‘You mean it, Mum?’
‘I most certainly do. I...we...are very proud of you and the way you’re handling this unexpected situation. You’ve been plucky and strong. You’re a little soldier.’
‘I am?’
‘Of course you are,’ her mother asserted briskly. ‘You’ve put your heart and soul into doing what you wanted to do, you haven’t accepted any help from either me or your father, and you’re soldiering on...working...making sure you maintain your independence. I’ll wager you’re not accepting anything from Sergio without a fight.’
Susie laughed, feeling on a high. ‘I make noises,’ she confessed. ‘You know it sticks in my throat having to accept his help. But if Sergio decides to do something it’s impossible trying to stop him. Honestly, he’s the human equivalent of a steamroller!’
‘Quite...’ her mother said after a pause. ‘I expect it’s what you need to be if you’re to reach the giddy heights that he has...’
Buoyed by her conversation with her mother, Susie had a good night’s sleep and awoke the following morning to the insistent ring of her doorbell.
She didn’t bother to check the time. Instead she dragged herself out of bed and padded to the door, flinging on a dressing gown over the nightie that clung to her newly rounded body.
She pulled open the front door and there he was, in all his drop-dead gorgeous, magnificent glory, finger poised to ring the bell one more time.
She yawned. ‘What time is it?’
Still drowsy, Susie swept her hand through her tangled hair and stared at Sergio, who looked unfairly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed while she felt as though she still needed a few more hours’ sleep in order to face the day.