For The Love Of Sara. Anne Mather
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Joel spoke. “This blood deficiency — how serious is it?”
Rachel turned away, rubbing her palms together. “I — I’ve told you. She’ll get better.”
“Has she seen a specialist?”
“She’s seen several, as a matter of fact.” She forced a shrug. “She’s not unique. There will be other children exactly like her.” That at least was the truth.
“But they’re not my children!” Joel muttered harshly.
“Nor is Sara your child!” retorted Rachel huskily. “She’s mine, and don’t you forget it!”
“I don’t forget anything.” His voice was cold. “I have never forgotten anything to do with you!”
“Forgive me if I find that very hard to believe.”
His jaw hardened. “Rachel, Sara is my child just as much as she is yours, and that’s an inescapable fact! Your motives for keeping her identity a secret are your own, of course, but I doubt they’d stand a deal of questioning in a court of law!”
“A court of law!” Rachel turned on him then. “You dare to talk to me of courts of law! A great deal Sara has meant to you, hasn’t she?” she hissed, and then glanced apprehensively at the child in case her words had carried across the space between them. But thankfully, Sara was engrossed with her toys.
“What was I supposed to do?” he asked grimly. “I’m not a mind-reader, Rachel.” He glared at her. “I’ve told you already — how the hell was I supposed to guess that you might be pregnant?”
“You didn’t care one way or the other!”
“You don’t know that!”
“But you didn’t want to marry me after — afterwards, did you, Joel?” she accused.
Joel’s face darkened then as the warm colour rushed beneath the tan. “Rachel, if I had known —”
“Oh, yes. If you had known I was pregnant, things would have been different then, wouldn’t they? What would you have suggested, I wonder? Adoption — or an abortion?”
Joel was taking a step towards her when the door of the living room suddenly opened and Andrew Hanson stood on the threshold.
“Rachel? I thought I heard voices — oh!” He saw Joel.
Rachel managed a faint smile. “Th-that’s all right, Andrew,” she assured him awkwardly. “I — er — Mr. Kingdom was just — going. He — he wanted to meet Sara, didn’t you, Joel?”
Joel thrust his hands into his trousers pockets, his expression hostile. “I didn’t know I was just going, Rachel. We haven’t finished our — er — business yet, have we?”
Rachel’s eyes implored his acquiescence, but Joel was not in a mood to accept it. Andrew Hanson’s face mirrored his curiosity, but he manfully concealed it as he said: “I just thought I’d let you know, Rachel, the Colonel’s awake and waiting for his tea.”
“Oh, thank you.” Rachel nodded her head jerkily. For the past few minutes she had almost forgotten the present in the disturbing reality of the past. She forced herself to look at Joel. “You’ll have to go now, Joel. I — er — I have my work to attend to.”
Joel looked at her, then at Andrew Hanson, and then round at Sara who was regarding all of them with the same degree of opposition. “I — er — I think I’ll stay here with Sara,” he said, much to her dismay. “You go ahead. Attend to your duties. I’ll look after Sara.”
“No, Mummy.” Sara ran across the room to hide her face against Rachel’s legs. “I don’t want to stay here with him. I want to come with you.”
Andrew Hanson frowned. “Don’t distress yourself, Sara. No one’s going to make you do anything you don’t want to. Naturally Mr. Kingdom won’t stay —”
“I suggest you mind your own business, Hanson,” said Joel coldly. “This has nothing to do with you.”
“Oh, Joel, please!”
Rachel tried to appeal to him, but Joel ignored her. “Will you leave us, Hanson, or do you want to be forcibly ejected?” he asked offensively, and the younger man turned and walked away, calling over his shoulder that he would see what the Colonel had to say about this.
“Oh, Joel!” Rachel stared at him across Sara’s little body. “What are you trying to prove? Go away. Go away now before you do any more damage.”
“It’s time you realised you can’t bury your head in the sand any more, Rachel!” he bit out savagely. “My God, do you really think I’m going to leave it here? You still haven’t told me why you’re marrying my father. And I mean to know. There’s more to this than convenience.”
Rachel closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them again. “I don’t have the time to discuss it with you, Joel.”
“So what do I do? Stay in the village until you do?”
“No. No.” She shook her head. “All right, if you must know, I’m moving to London next week. Your — your father has found me an apartment to stay in until — until we’re married. He thinks it will be better for Sara. To see more of him. And — and afterwards — afterwards I suppose we’ll be living a-abroad.”
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