Sarah Lewis was waiting for them in the reception area to bring them along to Sheena’s room. Terry was already there, chatting with his twin, and at the sight of his mother he slid off the bed and gave her a hug. Sheena watched them apathetically.
‘Darling,’ Jane cried, secretly shocked at the stark misery she saw on her daughter’s face. She hurried close to the bed and enfolded Sheena in her arms.
‘Mummy, Mummy,’ Sheena’s indifference suddenly melted and she clung fiercely to her mother, breaking down in a storm of tears.
When she was calmer Jane helped her sit back against the pillows and, still holding her hand, suggested, ‘Terry, why don’t you and Claire bring Ruthie out to the garden. You haven’t seen it yet, have you, darling?’
‘But Mummy I want to stay with you,’ she protested, as if afraid that Jane might vanish if she took her eyes off of her.
‘Just for a few minutes while I chat with Sheena,’ Jane bargained. ‘There’s a good girl. Then I want to hear all about Stella.’
When they were gone Jane turned back to Sheena and met her glance with a reassuring smile. ‘Ruthie has been staying with Fernando and Antonio for the past few days and, from everything I’ve heard, been thoroughly spoiled.’
Sheena’s expression lightened, but almost at once the old brooding, unhappy look was back. Jane’s heart sank. Obviously something very bad had happened. She ached to know so that she might begin to try and put it right, but wisely decidinh to wait until Sheena was ready to confide in her, talked of every subject other than what was uppermost in their minds.
In the end, a light-hearted remark was the chink in the dam which eventually released all the horrors burdening Sheena’s soul.
‘Terry’s friend Pete keeps ringing to enquire after you,’ Jane was saying. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if he has a path beaten to the door when you come back.’ She grinned at Sheena and was shocked to see her agonised expression.
‘No, he won’t, Mummy,’ Sheena choked. ‘Nobody will. Not when they know... ‘
‘Know what?’ Jane asked gently. She saw the shame and self-revulsion on Sheena’s tear-stained face and thought that her heart might break for her. By the time Terry and the girls came in from the garden Jane knew the whole degrading story. She knew too that she would not rest until her daughter had been avenged.
That night Claire and Jane stayed up late. Long after Ruthie had settled down and gone to sleep, they were still on the balcony with the candles alight to discourage the mosquitoes.
Claire talked about all that had happened since they had first arrived in Spain and Jane, conscious of what Sarah Lewis had revealed to her, was as patient as she had been with her own daughter and waited for Claire to confide in her. Finally, Jane gently steered the conversation to the Gonzalez family, deliberately revealing her involvement with Antonio years before.
‘And there’s something else,’ Jane went on. ‘When I came to leave hospital after all those weeks there recovering from my accident I found that Señor Gonzalez had taken care of my hospital bill. And, do you know, Claire, I’m convinced he intends doing the same for the twins.’
‘Gosh!’ Claire said startled. ‘How generous!’
‘Absolutely!’ Jane agreed. ‘And he has been so kind keeping Ruthie at his house all this time.’
Claire observed the dreamy little smile hovering about Jane’s lips and wondered could she still be in love with Antonio. She couldn’t help feeling shocked. Elena had been dead such a short time.
Jane said ruefully, ‘This seems to be the night for confidences, doesn’t it? But, of course, I didn’t know in the beginning that Antonio was married or that his wife was an invalid. When I did, it certainly helped to explain much of the past.’ She met Claire’s eyes honestly. ‘Just why he had an affair with me when it’s clear he loved her so.’
Claire watched Ruthie’s cat licking its paw and decided none of it was really so bad. She could not get over the sparkle and warmth in Jane’s manner whenever she mentioned Antonio.
Jane caught her eye and laughed. ‘Oh now, I know what you’re thinking, Claire. Anyone past forty is past everything else too! No, don’t deny it. I would have felt the same at your age.
Claire began to speak of her great affection for Elena and to describe, in searing detail, the last distressing weeks of the Spanish woman’s illness. Jane listened without interruption.
‘She was so brave,’ Claire concluded with a tremor in her voice. ‘In a way she reminded me of you.’
‘Of me?’ Jane was startled.
‘For one thing she was so courageous... and for another she seemed to really understand me and think well of me, like you’ve always done.’
‘But why wouldn’t I think well of you, Claire dear?’
Claire coloured. ‘Well... you know... after what happened years ago. Anyone else would have been angry, but you were always so kind.’
Jane had a sudden disturbing memory of burning with an irrational anger and resentment towards the child her husband had wronged. She had done everything in her power since then to make it up to the girl.
‘You were only a child, Claire. You weren’t to blame.’ She squeezed her arm gently. ‘More sinned against than sinning.’
Claire had an overwhelming urge to tell her about the baby, but still she hesitated, afraid that Jane might imagine she had allowed it happen in order to trap Terry into marrying her. She had just steeled herself to the point of confession when Jane suddenly yawned hugely and jumped to her feet. And the moment was lost.
Two days after Jane’s arrival in Spain Terry was discharged from hospital. His wound was healing well and there was no reason for him to remain there any longer. He would be convalescent for almost a fortnight before flying back to rejoin his squadron.
Jane had a chat with Sarah Lewis and arranged for Sheena to be kept in for another couple of weeks. She felt that her daughter was not yet ready to resume life in the outside world and, besides, she wanted certain tests run on her. Jane confided the whole sad and sordid story to Sarah
‘Oh the poor lass,’ Sarah kept saying and shaking her head sorrowfully. ‘Don’t worry, doctor. I’ll see to it that the poor child isn’t troubled any more than is absolutely necessary. She has been through enough already. And so too has her twin, poor lad.’
Uppermost in Jane’s mind was the fear that Sheena might have contracted AIDS from the men who had abused her, and although Sheena hadn’t actually put it into words herself, Jane knew that this was her daughter’s greatest fear too.
Claire was glad of Jane’s presence in the apartment when Terry was discharged from hospital. She both longed for and feared the thought of being alone with him, knowing she could not hold out against him if he wanted her.
On his first night in the apartment the mere thought of him, only a few yards away in the dark, made her body tremble, but she reminded. Her heart was pierced by the humiliating memory of Terry being unable to make love to her on the night they split up. She knew she would never forget it or ever leave herself open to a repetition of that unhappy incident.
Terry had taken over Ruthie’s bedroom and Ruthie happily moved in with Claire, an arrangement which solved the problem of space and ruled out any chance of a surprise nocturnal visit. Not that Terry showed signs of wanting one. Claire saw little of him that first week. Each day he visited his twin at a time carefully chosen not to coincide with her own visit to Sheena and, in the evenings, played pool with some English friends he had made in the local bars.
Claire invariably lay awake waiting for the sound of his return.. She would lie in the suffocating darkness, listening to him moving softly about the outer room, getting mineral water from the fridge and having a snack, before retiring for the night. Then she would hear him stripping off his clothes and the telltale creak of the bedsprings as he lowered himself on to the mattress. Remembering the nights they had loved and lain together, her throat would go dry and her heart would race.
It was a great relief to Claire that she had put on so little weight in the first months of her pregnancy. None but the most discerning eye could possibly have noticed the changes in her slim figure. She had an almost paranoid fear of Terry finding out and formed a vague plan of staying on in Spain after the rest of the McArdles had returned to Ireland. She would need Jane’s permission to live at the apartment, for she had no means of supporting herself and knew that any money she might get from her father, if she decided to ask him for an allowance, would be very small.
One afternoon, when Fernando had dropped Claire back to the apartment after visiting Sheena, Jane gave her the opening she was seeking.
‘I suppose now that the summer holidays are almost over you’ll be looking forward to college,’ Jane said, as they sat together on the balcony.
‘As a matter of fact...’ Claire began, watching Jane’s face. ‘I’m thinking of taking a year out and staying on in Spain to learn the language. I wondered if I might possibly stay here in the apartment.’
‘I don’t see why not,’ Jane said slowly, ‘although surely you would need to have given notice to the college a lot earlier?’
Claire said nothing.
‘Has this decision anything to do with Fernando?’ Jane smiled. ‘I can’t help noticing how very fond of you he is.’
Claire found it difficult to understand how Jane could think such a thing when she had once revealed to her how much she loved Terry. Still, it was in her interests to convince Jane that it was because of Fernando she wished to stay in Spain, so she forced a smile and said, ‘And I’m fond of him too. Maybe not quite as much but it might grow deeper and this is one way of finding out.’
Claire was still holding off giving Fernando her answer. She was truly fond of him and considered him a real friend, but whether he would ever become her lover she could not decide.
‘He’s a very nice young man and of good family,’ Jane said warmly. ‘But you are a very bright girl, Claire, and you have a great future ahead of you if you stick to your studies. This isn’t something you should decide in a hurry.’
Claire was pierced afresh by the precariousness of her position and wondered if she should be more honest with Jane. But what if she were angry and changed her mind about letting her stay in the apartment? Despite all Jane’s past assurances of affection, it was such a big thing she was asking and already she owed Jane so much. Oh, but how would she ever manage to get through the next few months without her help? She had no one else to turn to.
As the silence lengthened Jane eyed her thoughtfully. ‘Claire, my dear, if there’s something bothering you, I do hope you’ll consider sharing it with me.’
Claire started hotly to deny it, but there was something in the other woman’s tone, which seemed to hint that she already had an inkling of the truth, and meeting Jane’s look of compassion Claire suddenly found herself blurting it all out. She so desperately needed someone to confide in. The words tumbled over each other and she felt such an easing of tension afterwards that she grew almost dizzy with relief.
‘Have you told Terry?’ Jane asked briskly
‘No,’ Claire shook her head. ‘I can’t.’
‘But why ever not?’ Jane stared at her in surprise. Surely she hadn’t been wrong about Claire, she thought. Surely she couldn’t be contemplating marriage to Fernando while bearing Terry’s child? Or worse...have slept with both young men and didn’t know whose baby she was carrying?
‘You don’t understand,’ Claire said desperately. ‘He would only feel a sense of obligation... like he felt when he thought Grainne was pregnant. I would rather die than discover he felt like that about me.’
Jane was taken aback by the vehemence of her feeling.
‘You don’t think less of me, do you?’ Claire asked, her expression agonised. ‘Oh say that you don’t. I would feel that my last ally was gone if you, of all people, were angry or disgusted with me.’
Jane put her arms about her. ‘My poor silly child,’ she said warmly, ‘you can have no idea of the immense joy you have given me. I love you both and to know you are expecting Terry’s baby, conceived out of your great love for each other, makes me very happy.’
Claire blinked, as tears scalded her eyes.
Jane hugged her. ‘My dear Claire, this isn’t something you can possibly bear all by yourself. It’s only right you should tell Terry.’
‘I can’t. I just can’t,’ Claire repeated miserably. ‘Please, please try to understand.’
‘Believe me I’m trying,’ Jane assured her, ‘but I feel you’re making a mistake. I think you should give Terry the chance to prove how responsible he can be.’
‘No!’ Claire’s response was swift and strong. ‘Please promise me you will never tell him.’
From Claire, Jane already knew how Terry and Delgado had fought it out on the cliffs at Ronda, and she was consumed by a desire to find out if the man was alive or dead. Until they knew for sure there was always the danger he might reappear on the scene.
When she at last confided her worry to Antonio, he revealed that the police had informed him that Delgado had been discovered two days after the fight with his back broken at the bottom of the gorge. Rumour had it he’d fallen off the Puente Nuevo following a drunken brawl. Amazingly, he was still alive, despite the extent and severity of his injuries. When Antonio told her that the Spanish police readily agreed to press charges, Jane felt quiet satisfaction that the man would be brought to trial. To the other counts against him would now be added the charges of abduction, rape and attempted murder. She was only surprised that Antonio had kept the information from her.
‘I intended telling you soon, Jane,’ Antonio said with an apologetic shrug.
There was a proviso. Before the charges could be made to stick, Sheena would have to formally identify Delgado to the police.
‘I am sorry that your daughter must be put through this ordeal,’ Antonio told Jane regretfully, as they came away. ‘But I will be happy to drive you to the hospital near Marbella, where he is being confined, so that she may identify him.’
Jane sighed. She supposed she should have realised that it wouldn’t be simple. Nothing ever was. Should she put Sheena through this extra stress? she wondered, unhappily reminded of the years of Ruthie’s trauma.
‘Why don’t you let Sheena make the decision for herself,’ Antonio suggested, his eyes full of concern for Jane’s dilemma. ‘The act of denouncing this man might even be therapeutic and help speed up the healing process.’ Jane had told him how slowly the girl was recovering and he suspected that a feeling of self-hatred was at the root of it. Only by directing her anger towards the true author of her troubles, Antonio believed, could she be healed.
Jane agreed. At the clinic, she had seen women who had been raped, or battered by their partners, and knew only too well that Sheena was exhibiting the classic symptoms of listlessness and depression, as well as a general feeling of worthlessness.
While she was willing to try anything that might help Sheena to recover from her ordeal, she was firmly of the opinion that Sheena would not even begin to get better until she was back home again. Jane had telephoned one of the top women psychiatrists specialising in treating rape survivors. ‘Get her home and into therapy as soon as you can,’ she advised.
In the meantime Jane decided to do as Antonio suggested, although she did not for a minute think that Sheena would be willing to go along with the idea. When she tentatively broached the subject, she found to her relief and surprise that her daughter actually seemed to welcome the chance to confront her attacker.
‘Please let me go, Mummy,’ Sheena pleaded. ‘I’m not afraid.’
‘Are you quite sure, darling?’ Jane looked anxiously into her eyes.
‘Yes,’ Sheena said, meeting her gaze steadily. ‘I’m quite sure.’
On the appointed day Jane and Antonio drove to the hospital to pick up Sheena. So early in the morning there was only the hospital porter in the foyer and a maid with her hair in a kerchief was washing out the front step. After a quick glance at Antonio and Jane, the porter waved them on and went back to his newspaper.
When Jane popped her head round the door of Sheena’s room, she found her daughter sitting in a chair, already dressed and ready for the journey. Nurse Lewis, who was at the hand-basin arranging Sheena’s washcloth and soap, greeted Jane warmly.
‘All set, darling?’ Jane hugged her daughter. ‘Sure you still want to go ahead with it?’
Sheena nodded. ‘Quite sure, Mummy. Please don’t fuss.’ She was subdued but determined.
Jane said no more.
Sheena was quiet and withdrawn on the journey and sat slumped in the back of the Mercedes. Whenever Jane anxiously turned round to speak to her, she had to call her daughter to attention before she answered. Antonio gave all his concentration to his driving, and after a time, Jane relapsed into silence herself.
The nearer they got to Marbella the more nervous Jane became. All too soon it seemed they were parking in the hospital grounds.
Jane leaned into the back and patted Sheena’s knee. ‘This is it, darling.’ She got out of the car and waited while Antonio went round to open the rear door. He extended his hand to Sheena.
‘Valentía,’ he murmured. After a moment, Sheena accepted his hand and climbed out.
She stood looking about her in a slightly dazed fashion then, with a grim set to her jaw, walked quickly ahead of them as if anxious to get the whole thing over.
A doctor, accompanied by two police officials and a hospital orderly, brought them to the room where Miguel lay.
When Sheena hung back at the door, Jane glanced at her pale face and moved nearer. After a moment Sheena gathered herself together and, straightening her shoulders, stepped into the room. With an anxious look at Antonio, Jane followed.
Miguel lay encased from neck to toe in a plaster cast, seeming already to have passed into a kind of limbo between life and death. As Sheena stepped close to the bed his lids lifted and recognition flared in the pale eyes before the eyelids dropped over them again. At the sight of those flat eyes regarding her, Sheena took an involuntary step backwards. She recovered herself and said in a clear, hard voice, ‘This is the man who abducted me.’
Within seconds they were walking out of the room and back down the corridor. When they were almost at the hospital entrance Sheena suddenly sagged. Jane swiftly reached out her arms to hold her daughter close and saw that she was weeping, her face contorted in silent agony.
There was less than a week left before Terry flew back to join his squadron. The situation between them was much as it had been since he rejoined them in the apartment. Terry spent most of the day in the town with his new friends and came back late at night when they were all in bed. Fernando still called to the apartment each day to bring Claire to visit Sheena at the hospital but had so far exercised great restraint on the subject of their marriage. He was usually quiet on these journeys and had fallen into the habit of sighing a lot.
Having made the supreme effort and confronted her attacker, Sheena seemed to relapse into herself. True, for a day or two after the trip to Marbella there was a slight improvement in her spirits, so her therapist told Jane. However, following on that she had begun to have nightmares again and spoke of voices continually exhorting her to harm herself. Jane was more than ever convinced that she must get Sheena home without delay. When Claire worriedly reported this to Fernando on their way to the hospital next day, he nodded soberly.
‘I am very sorry to hear it,’ he said, and fell back to sighing again. They drove the rest of the way in silence.
‘I will call back for you in one hour,’ Fernando told her mournfully at the hospital entrance.
‘You don’t have to,’ Claire protested. ‘Really! I can walk.’
‘I will be here,’ Fernando said bleakly, and only gave her the briefest of nods when she waved and turned away. How serious he has become, she thought, becoming serious herself in turn. Today she had intended breaking the news to Sheena that she would not be going back home with her. Now she wondered if this was wise. Claire sighed and bit her lip, wishing she knew what to do.
Sheena was stretched out in a secluded part of the hospital garden and she sat up as Claire crossed the grass. She was dressed in shorts and bikini top and her skin was turning brown from hours of sunning, surely a hopeful sign that she was on the mend. Claire wished she could believe it.
‘I’ve been longing for you to come,’ Sheena confessed, slipping her arm through Claire’s. Together, they strolled in the shade of the bougainvillaea tree.
As she listened to her friend’s feverish chatter Claire was glad to see that Sheena could at least speak again.
‘It will be good to get away from Spain,’ Sheena sighed. ‘I never thought I’d be glad to leave the sun, but now I feel as though I can’t get home quick enough.’ She did not mention all the tests she had been given, but Claire knew about them from Jane. They would have the results of most of them in another few days, Jane had said, but it would be at least six months before they would know the result of her AIDs test. Hopefully then Sheena would get the all clear.
‘What about you, Claire?’ Sheena said when Claire was silent. ‘Will you be sorry to leave Spain?’
‘Sheena, let’s sit down a minute,’ Claire suggested, leading the way to the stone bench. Then she said in a rush, ‘Actually, I’m not going back to college. I’ve decided to stay on in Spain.’
Sheena stared and for the first time a spark of animation showed in her gaze. ‘But why, Claire? What will you do?’
‘Jane has agreed to let me stay at the apartment,’ Claire told her. ‘I’m going to try for a year’s leave of absence from college.’ She shrugged. ‘If I don’t get it... well, I’m staying anyway.’
‘But you’re brilliant at your work,’ Sheena protested. ‘What a terrible waste of your year at college.’ She paused and said doubtfully, ‘Though if you really hate it I suppose there’s no point in staying on.’
Hate it! One of the saddest aspects of her pregnancy was the interruption of her studies.
‘It doesn’t have to be a wasted year,’ she said, hating the need for secrecy, but how could she confide in one twin and not the other. ‘I’ll learn Spanish. I can always take it as another subject for my BA.’
Sheena said wistfully. ‘You make me feel such a failure.’
Claire shook her head, distressed. ‘Don’t say that. I’m just a slogger, Sheena If you had put even a tenth of the effort into schoolwork that you put into your painting you would have passed me out years ago.’
‘I never had the slightest interest in studying,’ Sheena admitted. ‘Remember how I was always copying your homework.’ She gave the ghost of a giggle. ‘You used look so anguished... too nice to tell me to feck off.’
Claire felt surprise that she had been so transparent.
‘Have you thought how you’ll live?’
‘Waitressing, giving English lessons. I don’t know. I haven’t really worked it out. I only know I’m not going back.’ She was surprised at how determined she felt.
Sheena digested this for a moment. ‘What will your mother say?’
Annette wouldn’t care, Claire thought. She would be just as glad to be saved the trouble and expense. Despite the three letters and two postcards she had sent her mother, she had received only one communication from her in all the time she was in Spain. Claire had been amazed at the tone of her letter full of acrimony and self-pity and vilifying Jane for asking Teresa Murray instead of herself to accompany them to Spain. As regards her father Claire felt great regret. He would be disappointed and might even raise objections to her opting out of college.
‘Fernando must be thrilled.’ Sheena’s face clouded. ‘Once I thought maybe Alejandro and I...’ She swallowed and made an effort to smile. ‘You and Fernando,’ she said. ‘Wow! I suppose I knew all along. It’s obvious he’s crazy about you.’
Claire got up to go, both relieved and saddened that Sheena thought Fernando was the reason she was staying on in Spain.
That same afternoon Terry swam out to sea in a hard overarm crawl. The cold green water was refreshing and the exercise welcome after weeks of inactivity. By the time he swam back to the shore and touched bottom, every muscle ached and the newly healed wound in his neck was throbbing.
He limped up the beach and rubbed himself dry, then zipped on his shorts and climbed the steps to the road. He went into a cafe overlooking the sea and ordered coffee and a ham roll. Terry stood at the counter enjoying the snack then reached in the pocket of his shorts for a coin. He paid the barman and set off briskly to the hospital.
Every afternoon Terry visited Sheena for an hour or two, striving to make the most of his last few days in Spain, and sometimes again in the evening. He felt very protective towards Sheena and was just as worried as his mother about her hearing voices. There had been a guy from his unit who went off his head that way. Terry wondered if his twin would talk about it to him, but so far she had never said a word and he felt reluctant to be the one to bring it up. But again like Jane, he was prepared to do anything that might help her. For the first time ever though, he and Sheena had begun to speak of their childhood and, with this openness between them, were discovering a new delight in each other. Only once did they touch on the family tragedy that had shadowed all their lives, and from the little Sheena revealed about that troubled time, it was clear she was in ignorance of the true state of affairs. When she sighed and said, ‘Wasn’t Daddy wonderful? If only he hadn’t died,’ Terry had not disillusioned her. Let her keep her unsullied memories, he thought.
He strolled through the hospital garden and was glad to find Sheena stretched in the sun. ‘You’ll soon be the colour of mahogany,’ he joked, bending to kiss her. Although never physically demonstrative towards his twin, of late, Terry was making a big effort to be affectionate. She was so touchingly vulnerable since her ordeal that he felt she couldn’t get enough reassurance that she was loved.
Sheena acknowledged his remark with an unhappy smile. Her tan was another of the things she had lost pleasure and confidence in. She was reminded too much of her sexual fling with Alejandro, which had led on to the horrors with Miguel. Now she loved the sun only for the total relaxation she experienced when exposed to its healing rays.
‘You’ve just missed Claire,’ she said, changing the subject. ‘She was here until a few minutes ago. Fernando was picking her up.’
‘Oh yeah.’ Terry affected indifference. Sheena often wondered what had gone wrong between her twin and Claire. They had seemed so mad about each other.
‘Did she tell you that she’s not going back home?’ Sheena could not hide her amazement. ‘She’s opting out of college and staying on in Spain. Fancy! Brainy old Claire. Who would ever have imagined it?’
Terry frowned. ‘Claire never tells me anything,’ he said gruffly. ‘She hardly speaks to me anymore.’
Sheena gazed at him. ‘Do you still care for her?’ she asked curiously.
Terry stood up abruptly and walked a little way up the path, without answering. He was stunned by what his twin had told him. Claire staying on in Spain! It seemed to confirm all his fears that she had fallen for the Spaniard.
When Claire had come hurrying out of the hospital she had almost bumped into Terry. She had seen him coming in the distance, striding towards her on the opposite side of the street, and quickly climbed into the car beside Fernando.
Fernando was silent on the drive back to the apartment, but Claire guessed what was on his mind. As soon as he had parked the car and switched off the ignition, he laid his hand on her arm and said with quiet intensity.
‘El amor de mi vida, I can wait no longer. You must give me your answer now.’
Claire looked shyly down at Fernando’s strong wrist and finely tapered fingers. Now that the time had come she felt breathless and confused and not at all immune to the magnificence of the man.
‘You must know that I’m very fond of you,’ she began. ‘You have been kind beyond anything I ever expected. I honestly believe if we married you would do everything to make me happy, and it’s much more than I deserve.’
She saw his face lighten at her words and felt happy for him because in that instant she had decided to marry him. All too clearly Claire saw that she and Terry had lost their chance of happiness. Even if she were capable of it there was no way Terry could ever put the past behind them. He had clearly demonstrated that what had happened with Eddie would always overshadow their lives. But with Fernando she could begin again. He would love her unconditionally and provide for her child. Claire gave a shaky laugh, overcome by the ease of it.
‘And I will do all I can to make you happy as you deserve,’ she continued warmly. But even as she made this promise Claire suddenly felt the most extraordinary fluttering sensation in the pit of her stomach, as though her insides had been brushed by gossamer wings. She sat petrified, waiting to see if it would happen again, and when it did, knew with dizzying certainty that her baby had moved.
The change in Claire was dramatic. Her expression became ecstatic and she felt such a rush of overwhelming love for the child that she grew weak with longing and she could have both wept and shouted aloud for joy. It was like nothing in her experience, this first indication of life, and it swiftly brought her to the realisation that whatever she might have believed previously she could not now give herself to anyone, if not the father of her child.
With a poignant little twist of her thoughts she remembered Song of Songs. She had not thought of it in a long while. How did it go?
Love no flood can quench, no torrents drown.
In her thoughts she unconsciously echoed the Spaniard’s words: love of my life. And if Terry never came back to her, Claire bravely faced the prospect, then she would live out her days lonely and alone, rather than ever settle for less than the best.
Fernando was regarding her with jutting lip and frowning countenance. She saw that he was puzzled and wounded by her complete forgetfulness of him and, contritely, attempted to explain her quixotic change of feelings.
‘I felt my child move inside me for the first time,’ Claire explained. ‘It made me realise that I’m not free to love you.’ She willed him to understand the enormity of what had happened and saw by his expression that he did, indeed, have some inkling of what it meant to her. As if in confirmation the child stirred again and Claire felt the same thrill of recognition.
‘How will you manage?’ His dark eyes watched her soberly. ‘You cannot survive without someone to take care of you.’
Claire’s face shadowed, reminded of her predicament.
Fernando said slowly: ‘I think you must still love the father of your child.’ And when Claire nodded, a sigh escaped him. ‘Ayee! I knew it!’
She watched him, helpless in the face of his despair.
‘And the man,’ Fernando went on heavily. ‘I know him too. Your friend’s brother. I think I have known it all along.’
So he’d noticed some tiny spark between Terry and herself. Despite her hopelessness, Claire was cheered to think that Terry might still retain some slight feeling for her.
‘What good fortune he has,’ Fernando pronounced sadly, and she was stricken by the unhappiness she saw in his melancholy gaze.
Claire wearily entered the apartment and wandered on to the balcony where Jane sat relaxing in the sun, sipping wine.
‘Join me in a glass,’ Jane suggested, and got up to fetch the bottle from the fridge. She was wearing a low-cut sun top and her skin was glowing from the sun.
Claire listlessly accepted a glass and sank down opposite her. Her head was aching and she felt inexpressibly sad. She had burned her boats and was now totally on her own. She felt like weeping. To have turned down a man like Fernando, who not only loved her but was prepared to accept her baby too, had not been easy and a fierce reaction had already set in.
‘No harm in a little wine now and then,’ Jane said, imagining that Claire was concerned about the possible effects of alcohol on the baby. ‘You look tired, my dear. It will do you good.’
Claire took a sip. The wine felt pleasant on her throat.
‘Ruthie has gone off to play with Adela and won’t be back till evening,’ Jane told her, adding with a grin, ‘So you can see I’m taking full advantage of her absence.’
Claire nodded, aware how clingy the little girl had been since Jane’s arrival. Only now was she beginning to relax guard on her mother. With a sigh, Claire laid back her head and closed her eyes.
Jane watched her face for a moment, then said impulsively, ‘Claire, my dear, won’t you tell Terry about the baby. I understand you reservations but in the months ahead you are going to need all the love and support you can get.’
Claire had no doubt in her mind that the future would be as lonely and tough as Jane suggested and even wondered if she could bear it without solace or support.
‘If you are worried about what your parents may say when we go back you really don’t have to go on living at home,’ Jane hurried on, as though by sheer dint of words she could remove Claire’s objections. ‘We’d love you to make your home with us - you have always been like one of the family and now with the baby coming it seems only right and fitting that we all be together. So long as your pregnancy is without complications, there’s really no reason why you shouldn’t continue in college until the spring. Why throw away a precious year of study without need?’
Why indeed? Claire ached with the effort of keeping still when she wanted so much to turn to Jane and fall weakly upon her neck in gratitude. Oh, if only she could do as she suggested, she thought. But it would be tantamount to forcing Terry to marry her. And even if he didn’t feel so obliged her presence in his home would be a constant reminder. He would only grow to hate her.
Jane watched her for a moment then added with sweet persuasiveness, ’And there’s another thing, Claire. I wonder do you realise just how much we’re going to need you when poor Sheena comes back home. You and she have always been such friends and, without a doubt, she’s going to need every bit of love and understanding we can show her.’
This argument, above all others, would have swept away the last of Claire’s resistance if it weren’t for her deep-seated insecurity regarding Terry. She dumbly shook her head and Jane made no further attempt to persuade her.
The sunshade was angled between the chairs and the sky, blocking the fierce afternoon sun. The transistor radio, with its volume turned low, was on the table along with the empty wineglasses. Ruthie’s cat stretched belly to the sky, occasionally rearing up to swipe a lazy paw at a darting butterfly. Jane had gone to lie down and Claire was drowsily thinking of following her example when the door of the apartment snapped open and quick footsteps passed through the lounge. Startled, she looked up to see Terry towering above her.
‘What’s this crap about you staying on in Spain?’ he demanded. ‘Sheena just told me. I thought she was making it up.’
Claire drew breath to speak but before she could say anything he burst out again. ‘It’s because of him, isn’t it.’ Bitterness salted his voice. ‘Saint Fernando of the Gonzalez millions.’
It hurt that he should think of her as mercenary.
‘Why else would you want to stay on in Spain only to marry him?’ His voice was shaking with a mixture of doubt and pain.
Let him believe it, Claire thought wearily, trying to control the quaver in her own voice as she said, ‘I just don’t want to go back to college, that’s all. I’m going to learn Spanish and let the future take care of itself.’
‘The future as Señora Fernando Gonzalez,’ Terry said savagely. ‘I never thought money meant all that much to you, Claire.’ He turned sharply away. ‘Show’s how wrong you can be about someone.’ The door of his bedroom slammed.
Claire stared down at the distant beach through a blur of tears. Nothing was changed, she reminded herself in desolation. Jane had said she was more sinned against than sinning, but Terry did not regard it so leniently. He had left her in no doubt of his feelings. Sick and perverted, he’d said. The words burned in Claire’s brain. No matter how she tried to convince herself otherwise, she knew that some day he would once more fling them in her face. It was only out of her great love for him and the memory of the happy time they had once shared together, that she was never going to give him that chance again.
Each day that was left to them, Claire stayed out of the apartment as much as she could and when she was there tried to adopt an easy manner with Terry, including him in all her remarks as if there was nothing wrong between them. But there was no reciprocation on his part, no effort to heal the split.
She had no doubts in her mind that she was right not to tell him about the baby, yet there were times when she caught him gazing at her with such a pained expression in his golden eyes that it took all her strength not to break down and tell him the real reason for her decision to stay in Spain.
Fernando continued to call to the apartment, not reconciled to losing her. Despite Terry’s air of brooding disapproval whenever the Spaniard appeared, Claire did nothing to discourage him for she was lonely and he was her only support. Even Jane was withdrawn, neither condemning nor approving.
One night Claire walked with Fernando through the town. When they stopped at a bar and found Terry already there, drinking with a group of young people, she forced a smile and moved on. She was aware of the sympathy in Fernando’s dark eyes, but she refused to allow herself the luxury of his consolation. At such times, Claire was surprised at her own strength, but since feeling her baby move, she experienced new resilience and hope, as though nature was affording her the necessary reserves needed to maintain this precious new life developing within her.
The next day was Terry’s last before returning to his squadron. As usual he went to see Sheena in the afternoon and did not return until teatime. When the meal was over and Claire had finished clearing the teacups, he said to his mother:
‘Well, Mum, it was good being with you, but I can’t wait to rejoin the team tomorrow and see a bit of the action. I’m getting really pissed off with the Spanish scene. Nice but deadly dull about describes it.’
‘I’m sorry you feel that way but you could have livened it up with a visit to Seville or Granada,’ Jane pointed out.
‘Hell, that’s the last thing I’d want,’ Terry exclaimed, making no effort to hide his disdain. ‘The Costa del Sol has been a real eye-opener. Nothing but wealthy Spaniards with their flashy hotels and apartment blocks capitalising on the gullibility of tourists.’
Claire got up to go, feeling sickened by his attack.
‘Claire!’ Jane called after her anxiously. ‘How would you like it if we went out later for a drink?’
‘Thank you but I won’t be here.’ Claire opened the door of the apartment as she spoke. ‘Enjoy yourselves!’ Closing the door after her, she went down the steps, unable to bear the pain of being so physically close to Terry and yet estranged.
The evening was warm with only the hint of a breeze off the sea and the sun was like a huge blood orange hanging low in the sky. Claire found herself taking the road behind the apartments, which led up a narrow trackway to the promontory overlooking the beach, which she often took in the cool of the evening. She felt angry and sad, and desperately wanted to get away on her own. Terry’s scornful and unfair attack on Spain and the Spaniards had brought it home to her how far apart they had grown, and the knowledge only accentuated her misery.
Claire moved steadily over the rough ground and did not pause or look around until she had reached the top. There the wild, unspoiled beauty of the unfrequented place began to work its usual magic, soothing and renewing her bruised spirit until, gradually, her stomach muscles unclenched and her expression became less agonisingly unhappy. She sat and gazed at the sea. Only another few hours and Terry would be gone, and then she would be free to grieve in her own fashion.
The door had barely closed behind Claire. ‘I suppose she’s gone to meet him!’ Terry exploded, and began furiously pacing the room. ‘My last night and she couldn’t be bothered staying in.’
Jane looked at her son’s stormy expression and wished she had not given her promise to Claire. She believed the girl was making a grave mistake, but nevertheless, she had given her word.
‘For God’s sake, Mum, who would ever have thought it,’ Terry railed brokenly. ‘Claire... our Claire that we’ve known since we were kids and brought away every year on holidays. Dammit! How could she forget us and opt for that Spaniard because of his money.’ His hurt was palpable, so fresh and raw it bled before her eyes. Jane wondered if Claire had judged him wrongly and he might be capable of great love after all.
‘Fernando has more than just money to recommend him,’ she felt constrained to point out. ‘He’s an intelligent, attractive and cultured man with a strong sense of responsibility. Humorous too,’ she added, thinking this was a quality that Terry, so brooding and intense, badly lacked.
‘Humorous!’ Terry said scornfully. ‘That prissy little smile and those effeminate clothes. Silk shirts and shitty gold bracelets. She’s out of her skull!’
Jane came to a sudden decision. May Claire forgive me, she thought, but in her present state the poor child isn’t capable of rational judgement.
‘Terry,’ she said gently. ‘Stop prowling about. I have something to tell you.’
Terry looked at her, not really hearing her, still shocked and wounded by what he considered Claire’s betrayal.
‘Sit down,’ Jane insisted, and waited until he had obeyed.
‘What is it, Mum?’ he asked, shifting restlessly, imagining she was going to give him another lecture about not judging the book by its cover.
‘The reason I have kept quiet until now,’ Jane began, wondering even as she spoke whether she was doing the right thing, ‘is because I promised Claire, but now I’m beginning to wonder if you shouldn’t be told.’
‘Told what, Mum?’ Terry asked tersely.
‘The reason why Claire has decided to remain in Spain. You must know how shy and reticent she is and what I’m about to say isn’t something she would want made public... even Sheena has no idea.’ Why am I taking so long to get it out? Jane wondered.
‘Spill it, Mum,’ Terry said curtly. ‘Stop prolonging the mystery.’
There were times when her son inspired Jane with a strong desire to smack him. She took a deep breath and said bluntly. ‘Claire is remaining in Spain because she’s pregnant.’
He was flabbergasted. She saw his expression range from shocked amazement to anger, and then sorrowing despair.
`’Why didn’t she say so?’ Terry burst out at last. ‘Of course she has to stay with him now. Oh God, why didn’t she tell me?’ For a moment she thought he was going to cry. Then he whirled about and ran to the door.
‘Terry!’ Jane called urgently after him. ‘Listen... come back. It’s not what you think.’ But she heard the door slam and realised he was gone.
Oh, God! thought Jane wretchedly, what have I done?
When she heard the peremptory knock at the door she sighed with thankfulness that he had come back and hurried to open it. She found not Terry but Antonio standing outside.
‘May I come in, Jane?’ Antonio waited politely until she beckoned him over the threshold.
Distractedly, Jane led the way to the balcony. She was reminded of the night he had called to the apartment to say goodbye to her after her sojourn in hospital, and how their passions had almost run away with them. Her cheeks warmed at the memory. So much had changed since then, she thought. His wife was no longer alive, the shadow hanging over them that night had been removed. And now the way was free before them.
But was it?
As Jane motioned Antonio to a chair and breathlessly sat down beside him, she could not but be aware that another shadow loomed in its place. She could not ignore that what had happened to Sheena made it unlikely that her daughter would ever want to return to the country that only months before they had all so joyfully embraced. It had undeniably put the knell on the idea she had once entertained of some day moving to Spain to work in a Spanish hospital, perhaps even enrolling Ruthie in one of the day schools in the city. How could she possibly contemplate such a thing now?
So burdened was she by her thoughts and the desolate image of Terry as he rushed away that Jane almost forgot the man sitting so quietly beside her. Would she have to sell the apartment, she wondered, recalling the unhappy blend of circumstances that had compelled her to sell the seaside cottage. But surely they could not spend their lives running away from things?
She sighed and turned her head to watch the sun sinking over the sea. With what high hopes she had bought the apartment that day, she thought miserably. It could have been such a good venture if only things had turned out differently
‘Something is troubling you,’ Antonio said gently. ‘I can tell by the sadness of your expression.’ All at once Jane became acutely conscious of his dark eyes intently regarding her and, as he reached out and took her hand, she felt almost shy in his presence.
‘Can you share your trouble with me?’ he asked.
Antonio had heard Terry ‘s frantic footsteps clattering down the stairs and stepped aside, but Terry had not been aware of the Spaniard’s greeting as he ran past, his eyes wild and unseeing. What his mother had told him had been the very last thing he’d expected to hear. And the very worst!
Terry strode across the parking lot, undecided where he would go. He had made a date with one of the English girls but he didn’t want to keep it. She was pretty and trite and he felt a terrible boredom at the thought of spending another evening with her.
He glanced up at the sky in frustration. He longed with all his heart to be up there now, soaring through the clouds. In the darkness of his soul Claire was the only bright light and she was no longer shining for him.
He was about to step down on to the street and then, almost by their own volition, his footsteps turned again and he began climbing the hill to a spot high above the apartment block. As he climbed he was reminded of a night in April when, his head whirling with Jane’s disturbing story about his father and Claire, he had taken the same leafy overgrown path. He knew he would be quite alone there and, in his pain and rejection, solitude was what he craved.
Terry shivered with shock and a desperate kind of sadness. Claire had belonged to him since before time began, or so it seemed. In his youthful arrogance he had considered she could not have been more completely his if she had been given to him in bondage. Now she was being taken from him and he knew he had only himself to blame.
Terry cursed his failure to see that what occurred between his father and Claire had not been sick and perverted, not on Claire’s part. She had been merely the victim of his father’s unbridled lust, and her own loneliness and childish innocence the snare which had led to her downfall. He remembered her anguished cry, ‘I was lonely’. Why hadn’t he been more understanding? He’d known loneliness himself, all those teen years missing his father. He should have understood yet he’d deliberately blinded himself to her needs. Why? he agonised.
Terry had always held on to what he had owned. Even as a child no-one had ever taken anything from him without a battle. Now he thought about flying back to his squadron next day and leaving Claire behind with Fernando Gonzalez. Claire, his Claire - he saw her grey eyes and gleaming fair hair, and felt as deprived as a soul cast into exterior darkness at the moment it hovers on the very threshold of heaven. Despair washed over him in an icy black wave.
Listlessly he turned and looked back down at the sea. Far below it was a leaden shimmer, capped with silver. A cry of anguish rose from the depths of his being and broke in his throat. Didn’t she know they were destined for each other? He was visited by an image of her lying in his arms and softly speaking of a love which nothing, not even earthquakes or floods, could destroy. Dammit! Terry swore. He couldn’t, wouldn’t give her up. He didn’t care if she was expecting triplets by that bloody Spaniard. He had known and loved her long before Gonzalez ever set eyes on her.
Terry knuckled his eyes and turned back to the path. He would fight for her, he resolved. He would seek out the man and they would engage in primitive battle for possession. And he would win! Terry clenched his fists and imagined the sweet satisfaction of slamming them hard in that aristocratic face.
As Terry reached the crest of the hill, sweat glossed his forehead and he was breathing hard, unfit despite the punishing swim that day. His dark waving hair flopped on his forehead and he forked an impatient hand through it, irritated by the unaccustomed length. Almost a month away from the Air Corps and it was curling on his neck.
It was minutes before he realised that he was not alone on the grassy knoll.
A woman was sitting on a rock, her legs gracefully curled under her, her chin propped pensively on her hand, her face side-lit by the dying sun. He saw that it was Claire.
At the sight of her, Terry’s heart swelled in his chest and his breathing grew shallow. She was so beautiful, he thought, the light from the sky lending radiance to her skin and bathing her in a rosy glow. He moved forward and the sandy gravel softly crunched under his shoes. She turned her head and froze at the sight of him.
‘Terry,’ she whispered, her face lighting with strong emotion. With a slight awkwardness of movement she got to her feet and came slowly towards him.
When Terry thought what might have been his heart yearned hopelessly within him. But time could not be reversed.
‘Claire.’ His voice sounded hoarse in his own ears, and she came closer and stood before him, unconsciously adopting the classic stance of the expectant woman, hip slightly thrust forward, weight resting on one foot. Her grey eyes were soft and luminous in her heart-shaped face.
His gaze swept down her body and she saw that he knew. A pulse beat in his cheek and his eyes were very bright. Claire returned his gaze steadily and a little apprehensively.
Terry tried to speak but the words died in his throat in the face of her new blossoming maturity. He no longer felt the fires of jealousy raging in his blood. Let her marry Fernando if that’s what is required, he thought wearily. Somehow in the space of a few minutes Claire’s needs and happiness had become of paramount importance to him and his own desires as nothing.
After a long moment he spoke as though with great difficulty. ‘My mother told me. I don’t know why you felt you couldn’t tell me yourself. He’ll stick by you, I suppose?’ There was a white line about his mouth and his eyes had again that wounded look in their golden depths. She drew back and stared at him, her own eyes very bright.
‘Is that what you think?’ she asked. ‘That it’s Fernando’s baby?’
‘Who else’s?’ Terry looked at her aghast. ‘Surely there weren’t others?’
‘None at all,’ Claire said, almost cheerfully. ‘Not even Fernando.’
The sky seemed to drop on him. He stared at her for a long moment. ‘Are you saying it’s mine?’ he asked quietly.
When she nodded he grabbed her to him so hard she gasped. ‘Oh my love,’ Terry cried and his voice cracked with emotion. ‘If you only knew what I’ve suffered thinking it was his and that you...’ He could hardly take in this wonderful change of circumstances. She was still his and had never been anyone else’s. Words of love and gratitude tripped on his tongue and he could not hold her closely enough.
Claire stood close-pressed in his arms, feeling his heart beating rapidly against her. Nothing has changed, she tried to tell herself, but as her bewilderment turned to joy, her determination wavered.
‘It’s the best news... the greatest, Claire.’
The blackness receded and light and hope flooded her soul.
‘Claire... you’ll never know how much I’ve missed and wanted you.’ Terry’s voice was fierce with longing. ‘But this - this makes up for everything.’
She was almost afraid to trust her ears. He didn’t feel trapped. He was glad! And Oh God! He loved and wanted her. She covered his mouth with hers, overwhelmed by the weight of her love for him.
The last glow was flaming the sky and still Jane and Antonio sat on the balcony, gazing at the distant coastline. For some time no words had been spoken. Both were still savouring the moment when Jane had finished tremulously confiding all that was troubling her and Antonio had been moved to take her in his arms and begin the tender task of reassuring and comforting her.
And what a good job he made of it, Jane thought contentedly. Perhaps he was right and everything would come right again. ‘Do not try and force a solution,’ he had told her softly. ‘Time is all that is needed for Sheena to forget the horrors she has endured and for the young lovers to find a way out of their dilemma.’
And then Antonio delicately broached the subject closest to them both.
‘Out of respect to the memory of my beloved wife,’ he told her, ‘I must wait out the period of mourning but then I hope with all my heart I may speak to you with the intimacy of a lover.’
Jane couldn’t help smiling to herself when she recalled the many warm conversations they had shared. Certainly none of them had lacked emotion. She composed herself, however, and continued to listen to what he had to say with fond attention, as always, impressed by his sensitivity. When he fell silent at last she warmly gave him the assurance he sought.
‘How I look forward to that time,’ she told him, ‘It will make me as happy, if not happier, as you have already professed yourself to be.’ In answer Antonio had placed a kiss in the palm of her hand and gently closed her fingers over it.
‘Until that time comes,’ he told her seriously. With this, Jane knew, she would be content.
Now, having shared her worries, Jane felt more hopeful and was able, at last, to enjoy the rosy heavens.
‘Red sky at night,’ she said softly, hardly aware that she said it. ‘shepherd’s delight.’
Antonio stretched out his hand and took hold of hers again.
‘Jane, my delight,’ he said softly. ‘Look at me.’
She did so.
‘At the time of your car accident,’ Antonio said in heartfelt accents, ‘I thought providence had brought you back into my life only to take you from me a second time.’
‘And now?’
‘I believe we have been given a second chance at happiness.’
Jane looked into Antonio’s eyes. When he gazed at her with the same tender look she had surprised in his eyes the day he came to meet her at the airport, she felt as though she had come into a safe haven at last and would never again know the rough and perilous seas she had sailed on for so long and alone.
All light was quite gone from the sky and the stars overhead were so many glittering diamanté chips. Terry and Claire lay close together on the stalky grass, their heads pillowed on Terry’s shirt and he held her to his heart. His lips brushed the curve of her throat and he murmured over and over, ‘Clairey, my Clairey,’ and she trembled against him.
In the months since they had made love her body felt the same, and yet there were subtle differences. Her breasts were heavier and fuller and more satiny than before, her hips and belly softly rounded. He registered these changes as he loved her and heard the sighing moans that escaped her parted lips with a satisfaction that was all the more deeply felt for having waited so long and come so close to losing her.
‘You are even more beautiful than before,’ he whispered, tracing the swollen curve of her belly with gentle, possessive fingers. And Claire kissed the healing scar on his neck with equal gentleness and marvelled at how tender and accepting he had become.
And when they had desperately meshed together, straining as close as they were physically capable, seeking total fusion of their bodies, he wanted her all over again and felt he could never get enough of her. The feeling they experienced transcended anything that had gone before, because they had each learned, in the lonely separateness of spirit, the true meaning of love.
They talked lying close to each other, she looking steadfastly into his face and he gazing down into her grey eyes. ‘You were so harsh and angry about Spain and the Spaniards that I thought you meant it,’ Claire said softly.
‘Yes, I was angry,’ he told her, his voice trembling in his throat, ‘but only because I loved and wanted you and was desperately afraid you would marry him.’
‘Oh Terry, hold me!’
And a little later, they made their plans and rejoiced in a future that they would share together. Claire spoke shyly of Jane’s suggestion that she should live with them and continue to go to college until the child was born, and although Terry felt a reoccurrence of his earlier insecurity, he wisely decided that he would find out just how soon they could afford to marry and move to the married quarters at Baldonnel. Yes, of course, he trusted her, he said, when Claire gently chided him. It was the other fellows that he didn’t trust.
The earth was growing cool. ‘Let’s go and tell Mum,’ Terry said, and when Claire thought how she would soon be living with the two people she loved most in the world she felt like Elena had once said, that truly her cup was overflowing.
Terry raised her solicitously to her feet, and sealed the pact with a long kiss.
Was this at last happiness?
Claire believed that it was. And when the earth steadied, she lovingly joined hands with him and together they walked down the blossom-scented hillside to the apartment.
THE END