Brittle Bondage

‘No.’

The denial after she had felt such an overwhelming sense of relief was shattering. ‘What do you mean, no?’

‘I mean you’ve misunderstood me.’

Rachel blinked, totally confused now. ‘You’re saying I can’t have a divorce?’

‘No——’

‘Then what?’ She recovered a little of her composure and struggled to sound reasonable. ‘I think you should say what you mean, Ben. Like you, I have work to do, too.’

And as if to endorse the point, the door of the shop opened at that moment, its bell chiming delicately round the elegantly furnished showroom. A man had come into the shop, a man of middle height, with square, sturdy shoulders, and a well-muscled, solid build. He was wearing tweeds, and a pair of green boots, his thinning fair hair hidden beneath a buttoned corduroy cap.

It was Simon Barrass, and Rachel, who would have normally been delighted to see him, viewed his presence now with a nervous eye. It wasn’t that she didn’t want him here, she told herself, shifting the receiver from one ear to the other. She just didn’t want him to interpret her tolerance of Ben’s attitude as intimidation. Having heard the story of what had happened from Rachel, Simon was, naturally enough, resentful of the pain Ben had put her through. He had already threatened to deal with him personally, if her soon-to-be-ex-husband made things difficult for her. And, although she wasn’t entirely convinced that Simon, burly though he was, could threaten Ben, she didn’t want their marriage to begin in such a way. Apart from anything else, Daisy would never forgive Simon if he hurt her father. And as for accepting him …

‘Look, we can’t talk now,’ she declared hurriedly, as the urge to avoid Simon’s learning who she was talking to overcame her desire to get things settled with Ben. Catching Simon’s eye, she gave him what she hoped was a welcoming smile. ‘Um—can I ring you later? I’m afraid I’ve got a customer.’

‘Have you?’

Ben’s response was heavily ironic, and she wished she had the freedom to tell him exactly what she thought of him. But until the divorce was finalised it was unwise to antagonise him. And she had delivered quite a broadside. Perhaps it was as well to give him time to absorb the news.

‘Yes,’ she said now, submitting to the rather wet kiss Simon was bestowing on her ear with some misgivings. ‘I won’t be a minute,’ she assured him softly, covering the mouthpiece as she did so. Then, ‘Will that be convenient?’ she enquired in a businesslike tone, as her fiancé chose to wedge his hips on the desk beside her.

‘OK, Rachel.’ To her relief, Ben seemed to accept her explanation. ‘Oh, give my love to Daisy, won’t you? Tell her Daddy says he’ll see her soon.’

‘I will.’

Taking no more chances, Rachel put down the receiver, only realising as she looked up into Simon’s curious face that she hadn’t even said goodbye. Oh, lord, she wondered, had he been able to hear Ben’s last few words?

‘Awkward customer?’ he asked, arching brows only a couple of shades darker than his hair, and Rachel gazed at him uncertainly, not sure how to answer him.

‘Not—not really,’ she offered, casting her eyes down and pretending to rummage in the drawer for some papers. She was sure her face must be scarlet. She wasn’t a practised liar. And she wasn’t entirely sure why she was prevaricating anyway. It wasn’t as if Ben had refused to discuss a divorce. She pulled out what she had supposedly been looking for, and assumed a bland expression. ‘You’re an unexpected visitor.’

‘But not an unwelcome one, I trust?’ suggested Simon, smiling, and she breathed a treacherous sigh of relief.

‘Not at all,’ she said, not altogether truthfully, allowing him to grasp her hand and squeeze it tightly between both of his. ‘I just thought you’d be busy, that’s all. With all the spring planting and everything.’

‘We’d be in a poor state if I was only now beginning the spring planting,’ declared Simon reprovingly, massaging her wrist between his palms. ‘You’ve a lot to learn, Rachel, and it’s going to be my pleasure to teach you. Now, where is that old codger you work for? I want to ask him a favour.’

‘Mr Caldwell?’ Rachel was surprised. She wouldn’t have thought Simon and Cyril had anything in common.

‘Yes, Cyril,’ said Simon forcefully, releasing her hand and getting up from the desk. ‘I’ve got to go to Bristol this morning, and I told Mother I was going to take you with me.’ He glanced round. ‘Now, if you’ll just point me in his direction——’

‘He’s not here.’ Tamping down the indignation she felt at not being asked whether she wanted to go to Bristol with him or not, Rachel got up too, rubbing her hands together. Then, realising it was just a nervous way of drying her sweating palms, she ran them swiftly down the seams of her linen skirt. ‘Mr Caldwell,’ she explained. ‘He’s gone to a sale at Romanby. I don’t know how long he’ll be. Probably several hours at the least.’

‘Oh, damn!’ Simon’s use of epithets was always conservative, but there was no doubting his irritation at this news. ‘And I suppose you can’t leave the shop, can you? What a nuisance! The sooner you’re not dependent on this place for a livelihood, the better!’

Rachel swallowed. So far, this had not been the best day she had ever had, and it was getting no better. ‘What do you mean, Simon?’ she asked. ‘I hope to work for Mr Caldwell for many years to come. I like it here. I like my job. I thought you understood that. I thought you realised how important it is to me.’

Simon blushed now, his fair, good-looking face flushing with unbecoming colour. It made him look both younger and less confident, and Rachel felt a twinge of conscience for reacting as sharply as she had. It was all Ben’s fault, she decided, resenting the fact that he was still occupying too large a place in her thoughts. She ought to feel flattered that Simon enjoyed her company so much. After all, he hadn’t left Wychwood until nearly midnight last night.

‘I do, of course.’ He spoke urgently now. ‘I didn’t mean that I wanted you to give up your job, Rachel. It’s just that we get so little time alone together. I’m very fond of Daisy, you know that. But she is inclined to hover over us whenever I’m—at your house.’

Rachel bit her lip. She wanted to defend her daughter, but the truth was Daisy was very possessive whenever Simon was around. It was her way of protecting what she saw as her father’s property, and not until she and Ben were divorced would Daisy really accept that their marriage was over.

‘It’s—difficult, I know,’ she conceded, and saw the colour in Simon’s face fade a little at her words. ‘But we do have time together after Daisy’s gone to bed.’

‘Mmm.’ Simon didn’t sound convinced. ‘So long as she doesn’t feel sick, or want a drink, or discover a spider in the bathroom.’

Rachel had to laugh then. ‘She does have a mine of excuses,’ she agreed. ‘But once Ben and I are divorced …’

‘It can’t be soon enough for me,’ declared Simon, nodding. ‘It should be easier then, as you say. Providing your ex-husband doesn’t try to maintain too much influence over her. You know, Rachel, it might be an idea to make an alteration to the custody order to the effect that you’ll take control of Daisy’s schooling. It’s obviously not going to be practical to keep her at Lady’s Mount after you’ve moved to Kingsmead. There’s a perfectly adequate school in Lower Morton, and when she’s eleven——’

‘I think we ought to talk about this at some other time, Simon,’ Rachel broke in hurriedly, realising that until she had discussed it with Ben there was no way she could make arbitrary judgements. Simon had no idea how her husband would react to any change in his daughter’s circumstances, and just because he hadn’t jumped down her throat when she broached the subject this morning was no reason to assume he was indifferent to her plans. She’d ring him again this evening, and try and get some definite decision from him. Perhaps after he’d had time to think it over, he’d see it was for the best.

‘I suppose you’re right.’ To her relief, Simon at least seemed prepared to accede to her wishes. Or perhaps he was simply relieved. ‘Well, I suppose I’d better go. If you can’t come with me, you can’t. I’ll think of you when I’m sitting in Alberto’s, enjoying one of his peppered steaks.’

‘Do that.’

Rachel accompanied him to the door of the shop, and allowed him to give her a rather more intimate kiss before taking his leave of her.

‘I’ll see you tonight,’ he said, replacing his cap as he stepped out into the cooler air. ‘About seven, hmm?’

‘Oh, I——’ Rachel struggled to find the words. ‘Would you mind if we didn’t see one another tonight? I—well, I’ve got to speak to Ben some time, and—and tonight seems as good a time as any.’

‘Without me listening in, do you mean?’ he asked drily. ‘I suppose that’s why you put him off just now.’ He paused, and then added pointedly, ‘Don’t forget to give Daisy his love.’

Rachel’s breath escaped with a rush. ‘You heard!’

‘Well, my hearing is fairly acute, despite my advanced years,’ remarked Simon evenly. ‘Why didn’t you tell me he’d rung you, Rachel? I thought we didn’t have any secrets from one another.’

‘We don’t. And he didn’t.’ Rachel felt terrible now. ‘I rang him. I just—didn’t want to involve you, when it wasn’t necessary.’

‘Everything you do is necessary to me,’ retorted Simon, gazing at her with pale possessive eyes. ‘But I’ll respect your wish to deal with your husband on your own terms. However, if there should be any problem over the divorce——’

‘There won’t be.’ But Rachel crossed her fingers as she said it.

‘I hope not.’ Simon balled one fist and pressed it into the palm of his other hand. ‘It’s not as if you want anything from him. You’re only finalising something that should have been finalised long ago.’

CHAPTER THREE (#ua5f2a8c1-4f28-5b1b-aaa1-20ceb9333f30)

IT WAS after six when Rachel and Daisy got home.

Mr Caldwell didn’t get back from Romanby until nearly five, and then he insisted on being brought up to date with everything that had happened in his absence. It didn’t help that he had imbibed rather too freely in the hospitality tent at the sale, and consequently needed Rachel to repeat everything several times before he grasped what she was saying.

Daisy noticed, of course.

On those occasions when Rachel had to work late, the bus dropped her daughter off at the shop, and Daisy spent the time between her arrival and their leaving either reading, or doing her homework, or chatting with Mr O’Shea. She was a great favourite with the garrulous restorer, and Rachel was immensely grateful to him for making her feel so welcome.