But once the waiter had departed Coral returned immediately to the attack. 'This is just like you, Victoria.' Her mother's narrowed, hostile gaze gave a feline appearance to her pretty face that emphasised her high cheekbones and small nose. 'You have been doing things like this since the day you were born.'
'Hardly, Mother.' Victoria kept her tone light and bantering. She had learnt through countless such confrontations over her wary twenty years of life that it was the only way to take Coral on and survive the encounter with a few nerves intact. 'I think someone would have noticed if I'd done this before.'
Her mother's thin mouth tightened and she all but bared her teeth. 'This facetious attitude does you no credit, you know that, don't you?' she said cuttingly, her eyes flashing.
'Mother, I merely told you I was expecting a baby,' Victoria retorted quietly, willing her voice not to shake.
'And what does Zac think of this? He is the father, I take it?' Coral rasped tightly.
'Of course Zac is the father, and he's…he's pleased.' Victoria's stomach was churning, every nerve and sinew curling and tightening, but that was normal when she was in her mother's company. She should be used to it by now, she reflected bitterly.
'So you are back with him, then.' Coral spoke as if their reconciliation might go some way to atoning for her daughter's grievous sin, her stiff body relaxing slightly.
'No, not exactly.' Victoria raised her chin a notch as she forced herself not to duck the issue. 'Not at all, actually. I…I intend to have this baby and bring it up myself. The divorce will go through as planned,' she said as evenly as she could.
'Are you mad, girl?' Coral stared at her, aghast. 'The m
an is a Harding; doesn't that mean anything to you? He is enormously wealthy and powerful; you'll never want for anything in your life.'
'I don't intend to discuss this with you, Mother,' Victoria said very succinctly. 'Now or ever.' She eyed her grimly.
'Don't you indeed?' Coral paused as their first course— smoked-duck salad, the house speciality—arrived.
Ever the elegant, sophisticated, well-bred lady, Victoria thought bitterly as she watched Coral coldly incline her head at the young waiter before he departed again. Didn't her mother ever get tired of acting a part? But perhaps it wasn't a part—perhaps this brittle, cold shell was all that was left of the real flesh-and-blood person her mother must once have been.
'I can see why you've been hiding yourself away these last few weeks,' Coral said tightly after taking a tiny bite of one wafer-thin sliver of meat, her eyes flicking con-temptuously over her daughter. 'Too ashamed to tell me, I suppose,'
'I haven't been hiding away.' Victoria took a deep breath. This was only going to be received fractionally better than her pregnancy. 'I've been working as it happens,' she said quietly.
'Working?' Coral stared at her, utterly aghast.
'In a flower shop.' Victoria actually enjoyed the moment.
The blank silence was more telling than any show of rage, and it continued all through the trout with stuffed mushrooms, and the lemon cheesecake, right up to the moment Victoria paid the bill and the two women stepped into the warm summer sunshine outside Chaucer's esteemed brass and gold doors.
'When is this—' Coral flapped a disdainful hand in the direction of Victoria's stomach, ignoring Victoria's sharp 'Baby?' '—due?' she asked coldly, her eyes scanning the street for a taxi.
'Towards the end of December,' Victoria said flatly. She wasn't going to cry, not here in the middle of the street, she told herself fiercely. She'd told her mother now; it was nearly over. She could carry this off for a few moments more.
'I shall be holidaying in the Bahamas at Christmas.' It was said in such a way that Victoria was meant to understand her mother would have been holidaying whenever the baby was expected. She would probably continue to 'holiday' for the rest of her grandchild's life.
'Really?' Victoria ignored the undertones and forced a bright smile. 'How lovely. I'm sure you'll have a wonderful time,' she said briskly. 'You'll be staying until the New Year?'
'Yes…' Coral raised a small authoritative hand and immediately a taxi glided to a halt at the side of them, causing Victoria to reflect, and not for the first time, that her mother could summon a cab in the middle of the Sahara desert and one would instantly appear. 'Can I give you a lift, Victoria?'
It was cold and dismissive, and Victoria responded to the tone as she replied, 'No, thank you. I've some shopping to do.'
Coral nodded, a barely perceptible inclination of her head, and after offering a smooth, perfumed cheek to Victoria's lips climbed into the taxi without another word or backward glance.
Victoria continued to stand without moving as she watched the vehicle pull into the mainstream traffic, and just for a moment the raw anguish that had permeated her childhood returned in a consuming rush, causing her to feel as though she was getting tinier and tinier, shrinking away into nothing. Unloved and unlovable. It was a terrifying feeling and quite devastating.
'How did it go?'
The deep male voice just behind her caused Victoria to swing round so quickly, she almost lost her balance. 'Zac.' She stared at him in surprise, the darkness evaporating. 'What are you doing here?'
'It's a lovely Saturday afternoon and I hadn't anything much to do,' he replied easily, taking her arm and beginning to walk along the pavement. 'I thought I'd have a wander, do a bit of window-shopping, take in a few rays, you know?'
Victoria stopped dead as she turned in his hold and looked up into the handsome face. Zac Harding always had plenty to do—in fact he ran his life with military precision—and wandering, along with window-shopping, was anathema to his fast, hectic lifestyle. And taking in a few rays? It didn't even sound like him.