Why did every conversation with her mother resemble a minefield of some kind? Victoria had asked herself wearily, at the same time as her heart began to thud with the uncomfortable feeling Coral knew something she didn't, something important.
'What, exactly, do you mean, Mother?' she'd asked carefully.
There had been a few moments of blank silence, and then Coral had said, her voice tart now, 'Oh, he hasn't told you, then? Well, I don't suppose it matters now if you are going to let him buy you a place anyway. The flat was Zac's idea if you must know—there is no friend of mine. Zac didn't want you struggling money-wise or living somewhere unsuitable, so he set it all up with the owner on the understanding you mustn't know. Surely you were surprised the rent was so low, Victoria?' she'd added irritably. 'You pay a fraction of the cost Anyway, I must go. I'll speak to you when I return in January.'
Victoria had sat in stunned disbelief, holding the phone for a good five minutes after it had gone dead, but no matter how she'd tried to explain it away one fact remained. He had been worried about her, so worried he had smoothed the way by the only avenue left open to him. Oh, Zac, Zac… She'd felt more confused than ever.
She had made the excuse of feeling tired—which wasn't really an excuse at all as she was constantly exhausted these days due to one sleepless night after another—when Zac had arrived home later, and had gone to bed without telling him about her mother's phone call. She'd needed to think about this, digest it, before she discussed it with him. Everything was getting more and more complicated.
And then, as she had lain staring into the darkness with sleep a million miles away, the memory had come to haunt her.
It had featured her father and Linda Ward and herself. She could only have been four or five, and there was a garden party going on. She was sitting in one of those upholstered sofa swings on Linda's lap, and her father had joined them. From that point it was blurred, but her father must have been short with her because she recalled Linda saying that she—Victoria—was the innocent one in all of this, and it wasn't fair to take it all out on a child.
And her father had cried. That was the thing she had buried, because she hadn't been able to cope with it at the time—she had been too unused to any show of emotion. But he had definitely cried.
The phone ringing at the side of her now interrupted further reminiscences, and she picked it up quickly, glad to come out of the misty shadows that puzzled and confused her.
'Tory?' Zac's voice was dark and gentle, and she shivered deep inside. 'How are you feeling?' he asked softly.
'Feeling?' she echoed dazedly, her mind a million miles away.
'You felt off colour last night, and you had backache this morning at breakfast,' Zac reminded her quietly. 'Is everything okay?'
'Oh, that—oh, no, I'm fine,' Victoria said hastily. Fine. What a stupid word, she thought with savage self-deprecation. She wasn't fine; she was anything but fine. She missed him. He was living in the same house, eating his meals with her, talking to her about his work, his interests, everything these days, and the more he did that, the further away he seemed to get Because it made her realise what she was missing. Oh, she was a mess…
'The weather forecast is foul, so just put your feet up today,' Zac said softly, 'and if your back is still troubling you when I come home I'll give you a massage.'
A massage? Victoria remembered how he had looked at breakfast that morning, his lean, muscled body clothed in a designer suit and light blue shirt, black hair slicked back from his forehead and his tanned skin carrying a deliciously clean, lemony smell that carried undertones of raw male. It had taken her a full hour to recover. And he was talking about a massage…
'It's…it's all right,' she said in a flustered gasp. 'I…I'm sure I'll be—'
'Fine?' he finished lazily. 'Well, we'll see. Goodbye for now.'
How would Linda react if she went to see her? Alone with her thoughts again, Victoria returned to a safer topic than Zac. The baby was due in another three weeks so if she was going to go now was the time. But perhaps her father's mistress wouldn't want to see the daughter of her old lover? If she was at home, that was.
Linda was at home, and she welcomed Victoria with a warmth that surprised the younger woman as she said, 'How lovely to see you.' Linda's looks, although pleasant, had never been stunning, and now Victoria saw the older woman had obviously decided to ride the passing years gracefully. Her make-up was perfect but discreet, and her thick hair cut expensively well but showing liberal amounts of silver among the brown. 'I'd heard the baby was expected soon, and I've been looking in the paper every night for the last week or so to see if it's arrived,' Linda said with her gentle smile.
'Have you?' Victoria was surprised but rather pleased.
Once Linda had led her into the sitting room—a cosy room Victoria remembered vaguely from the past, with good but slightly shabby furniture enhanced by a roaring log fire in front of which the most enormous tabby cat lay—Victoria knew she had to speak quickly before she lost her nerve.
'You'll probably think I'm being silly,' she began hesitantly, 'and I hope you won't mind what I'm about to say, but it is important My mother told me some months ago about you and…and my father.' She was blushing furiously but she couldn't help it.
Linda's face straightened but her eyes were steady as she said, 'I've nothing to hide, Victoria. What do you want to know?'
'I don't understand half of it, and it's none of my business, I know that, but something has been bothering me.' Oh, this was difficult, awful. She should never have come.
And then Linda made everything easier as she leant forward, her eyes soft, and said, 'Of course it's your business, Victoria.'
It was simple from then on, and after Victoria had finished speaking Linda was quiet for a full minute before she said, 'I'll make some tea and then we'll talk properly.'
They talked until lunchtime, and when Linda asked her to stay and share a meal Victoria promptly accepted. She was so glad she had come; she had learnt so much.
Linda's face had glowed as she had talked of Victoria's father. 'We met just a year too late,' she said softly. 'His marriage with your mother was virtually an arranged one—two families who had known each other for years wanting their offspring to wed. Your father had never met anyone he really cared about, and your mother was very attractive, so he let himself be talked into it. He knew from his honeymoon it was a terrible mistake, but you were conceived almost straight away. We met a few months later.'
Linda's hand went out to hold Victoria's as she continued, 'Your mother…well, she didn't plan on having a baby, and your father always said it was a miracle you were conceived anyway. She didn't like the intimate side of marriage at all. But there it was; you were on your way and neither of us felt it was right for him to leave until you were older.'
'He stayed because of me?' Victoria asked slowly. 'But he never took any interest in me, not really,' she added bewilderedly.