Claiming His Shock Heir

‘No, possibly not. You know there’s talk of him marrying Cara Laine?’

‘Yes, Simon is very unhappy about it.’ She saw Eve’s look and sighed. ‘I wouldn’t have told him, but he had seen his birth certificate—years ago, and when we came up here and he heard Scott’s name,’ she shrugged. ‘I’ve explained the whole mess to him as best I can. He is very mature, but he’s still a boy of ten, and I think he feels bitter and resentful because I’ve deprived him of his father. He worships Scott.’

‘I’ve noticed.’

‘Scott says he’ll tell the police about Simon trespassing, and riding that motorbike, if I try to leave, and then there’s the matter of the damage to his Rolls. I can’t possibly afford to pay for it.’

‘I’d gladly lend you the money, but somehow I don’t think.…’

‘It wouldn’t make any difference,’ Philippa agreed. ‘I’ve come to the conclusion that the only thing to do is to let him take his revenge and hope that it purges the bitterness from him.’

‘You still love him?’

‘Does it show so very much?’ she asked wryly. ‘Yes. Yes, I’m afraid I do. Quite how much I didn’t realise until I saw him again, but I have Simon to think of now. You won’t tell Scott, about Simon, I mean?’ she asked pleadingly.

For a moment Eve seemed disinclined to agree and she gave a faint sigh. ‘I don’t believe I have the right to. But Philippa, he is Simon’s father, and if you could explain to him—–’

‘He would what? Accept me on sufferance!’ She shook her head decisively. ‘No. When the time comes I’d rather make a clean break.’

‘And Simon—will he want to leave?’

* * *

She didn’t tell Simon that Eve had guessed his paternity, but she couldn’t help noticing how her son clung to Scott’s side at every opportunity and how patiently Scott answered all his questions. He might not like her, but he was always scrupulously fair about not allowing his dislike of her to flow over to Simon.

‘Scott’s getting real attached to that kid of yours,’ Hank commented one day. ‘Funny how alike they are, both mentally and physically.’

Philippa shrugged, hoping he wouldn’t notice her changing colour. ‘Simon misses a father’s influence, I suppose. Any news about the American contract?’ she asked, changing the subject. It seemed to her that Cara was deliberately drawing out the negotiations, delaying things so that she would have more time to spend with Scott. If Scott was getting fond of Simon, Cara definitely wasn’t. She complained waspishly to Philippa one afternoon that she was sick of him making a nuisance of himself.

‘He’s always hanging around Scott,’ she told her. ‘If the kid wants a surrogate father, why don’t you go find him one? Who is his father anyway? Rumour has it in the village that it’s some guy who ditched you to marry someone else.’

What else had rumour told her? Philippa wondered. Did she know about the relationship between herself and Scott? She suspected that she probably did; she certainly tried hard enough to make sure that Scott didn’t spend too much time in his secretary’s company. They were out together nearly every lunch time and she was constantly walking into the office.

One afternoon after work Philippa found Simon moodily kicking pebbles round the courtyard, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans, his face contorted in a scowl.

‘How about a swim?’ she suggested. They often used the indoor pool late in the afternoon, but Simon hunched his shoulders and shook his head.

‘I was going out with Scott, he promised me, but she wanted to go out with him.’

‘Simon,

try to understand, Cara wants Scott to herself, just like you do. Adults do want to be alone at times you know.…’

‘You mean she’s in love with him, don’t you? Is he going to marry her?’

‘I just don’t know, and it’s really none of our business is it?’ she added gently.

Simon rounded on her furiously, his cheeks poppy red, his eyes defiant. ‘It is my business,’ he shouted back, ‘he’s my father!’

She felt too dispirited to discuss it further. Eve and her companion had gone out to have dinner with friends, Scott was out with Cara, and so Simon and Philippa ate dinner alone. It was late when Scott got back. Philippa heard the sound of his car, and she had no idea when he came to bed; she was fast asleep, even though she had lain for what seemed like hours after the car had stopped, listening for the sound of his tread along the corridor. Had he spent the night with Cara?

* * *

She had been at Garston nearly a month now. They were having a hot spell, and she decided to have a swim after work. She was just on her way to her room to collect her swimsuit when she heard Simon’s voice, raised and bitterly angry, coming from the direction of the garage area. Frowning, she walked past the door and into the yard, coming to an abrupt halt. Scott and Simon were standing on one side of the Ferrari, Cara on the other. Both Simon and Cara were flushed and angry, and the American girl’s voice was acid with scorn as she said tightly, ‘Scott, for God’s sake get rid of this damned kid. If you’re so all-fired fond of them, have some of your own, I’m sure you’re more than capable, darling, and you wouldn’t have to look far for someone to share your bed.…’

‘He doesn’t.’ That was Simon, struggling to hold back tears, unaware that Philippa was hurrying towards him. ‘My mother already shares it,’ Simon stuttered furiously, ‘and they’re going to get married, and.’

‘Simon!’ Philippa was too shocked to do more than call his name, but he turned immediately, his face flooded with guilty colour and did something he hadn’t done in years, running towards her and hurling himself into her arms.