Nothing seemed to daunt Lucy. This morning her daughter was her normal cheerful self, but Lucy didn’t realise, as she did, exactly what effect that falling branch was likely to have on her life. Every time she thought about the future she could feel the panicky, helpless feeling swirl through her. She put down her coffee, knowing that her hand was trembling.
‘Yes, yes, but put your wellingtons on, and no going outside the garden.’
Her response was automatic, her eyes barely even focusing on the two small jean-clad figures as they opened the back door.
As soon as they had gone she stood up. The intimacy of the kitchen with only Jay and herself in it made her feel uncomfortable. ‘I …’
‘Sit down.’
His voice was harsh, and she obeyed it automatically, looking at him with shocked, bewildered eyes as he poured her a fresh cup of coffee and brought it over to her.
‘You’ve had a bad shock,’ he told her curtly, ‘and you’re feeling the effects of it. It happens to all of us at times.’
‘I’m all right.’ Her lips pressed tightly together, panic surging through her at the thought that he was aware of her weakness.
‘For God’s sake, what is it about you that won’t allow you to turn to anyone for help? Independence is fine, Claire, but there is such a thing as taking it to extremes, or is it just me? Is it the thought of me helping you that makes you react like this?’
‘I …’ Her throat seemed to have seized up. She swallowed and managed to say painfully, ‘I don’t like being beholden to anyone.’
‘I don’t believe I’m hearing this! Beholden? It’s positively Biblical! I’m the one who’s beholden to you, Claire, not the other way round. When I brought you back here last night, I felt as thought I were dragging you here against your will; every time I come within arm’s length of you, you cringe away as though you think I’m about to commit rape!’
He stopped when he saw her face. Coming on top of everything else it was too much. She started to shake so violently that she spilled her coffee.
‘What is it? What did I say?’
Jay took the cup from her, careful not to get too close to her, but she was barely aware of him.
‘Claire, what is it? Surely you don’t think I’d hurt you in some way, do you?’
She shook her head.
‘Then what is it?’ He frowned. ‘Lucy’s father?’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Is it your husband, did he …’
She felt the bubble of hysterical laughter well up inside her like a painful lump.
‘There was no husband … I was never married … Lucy … I was raped on my way home from school when I was eighteen. My parents had just died … I was still living in the house. I never saw his face; he came up behind me and knocked me out. When I came round I was in his car. I tried to stop him, but he …’ She shuddered tensely, trying to stop the memories coming back. ‘Afterwards he pushed me out of the car and drove off …’
‘Oh my God! The police?’
‘I never told them. I couldn’t tell anyone. Only the doctor when I realised I was pregnant …’
‘I would never have guessed. You love Lucy so much.’
‘I didn’t know if I would, not until she was born. But it wasn’t her fault.’
‘And that’s why you don’t want a husband, is it, Claire—because of what happened?’
‘I don’t like men coming anywhere near me. I don’t want any sort of intimate relationship with them. I can’t explain it, I.’ Claire shook her head, trying to dispel her disturbing memories.
‘You don’t need to,’ Jay told her curtly. ‘I’m not totally devoid of imagination.’
‘I don’t think I can bear it if I lose the cottage. Before we came here Lucy and I had a council flat …’ She shuddered again, suddenly feeling intensely cold. What on earth had prompted her to break down like that? She had never, ever confided to anyone other than her doctor the true circumstances surrounding Lucy’s conception. She had never wanted to tell anyone before. The events of that night were something she thought she had locked safely away.
It was the shock of what had happened to the cottage, of course; but that didn’t mitigate her sense of self-betrayal.
‘I shouldn’t have told you,’ she muttered, trying to stand up. ‘I …’
‘You hate revealing anything of yourself to others, don’t you, Claire? Well, I can sympathise with that.’ Jay stood up too, reaching out to steady her as she trembled. ‘It’s a fault I think I share, but I had hoped that you and I were becoming friends. Friends trust one another; I want you to feel that you can trust me. You think that what you’ve just told me makes you vulnerable to me,’ he added, watching the give-away expression on her face. ‘But I’ve been equally vulnerable to you—more so, possibly, and your strength and kindness when Heather was missing are something I will never forget, and never be able to repay,’ he added quietly. ‘Now go upstairs and get your coat, and then we’ll drive down to the village and see what the situation is with the cottage. Oh, and Claire,’ he added, as she headed for the door, ‘I want you to know that you and Lucy can stay here for just as long as it takes to get things sorted out, and before you say a word, it won’t be all one-sided. While you’re living here, I’m getting a housekeeper and a nanny for Heather all rolled into one.’