Season Of Mists. Anne Mather

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Season Of Mists - Anne  Mather


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this morning your father told me that he doesn’t want to see—either of us again.’

      ‘That’s not true!’

      ‘It is true.’ Abby would have gone to him then and put her hands on his shoulders, but Matt backed away.

      ‘What did you say to him?’ he demanded, and she was dismayed to hear the choke of a sob in his voice. ‘I bet you told him to get lost. My father wouldn’t refuse to see me—he wouldn’t! You’ve done this. It’s all your fault.’

      ‘Matt——’

      But Matthew had gone, charging back through the kitchen as if the devil himself was at his heels. Abby followed him more slowly, hearing, like the death knell of all her hopes for their relationship, his booted feet hammering up the wooden staircase.

      Hannah looked up from the bread she was cutting when Abby appeared, turning her head towards the stairs before giving the girl her attention. ‘Whatever has happened?’ she exclaimed. ‘First Piers goes striding out of the house, without even a word of farewell, and now Matthew dashes up the stairs, as if you’d taken a whip to him!’

      ‘Don’t ask,’ said Abby tiredly, sinking down into a chair beside the table. ‘Honestly, sometimes I wish I’d died in childbirth, like my mother. I just don’t think I’ve got the will to go on.’

      ‘Of course you have.’ Hannah spoke half angrily. ‘And don’t let me hear you suggest such a dreadful thing again! Be thankful for what you do have—your youth and your health. There’s many a one would envy you, just remember that.’

      Abby sighed. ‘I know, I know. But I don’t know what I’m going to do, Aunt Hannah. Matt blames me for everything. He even blames me for sending Piers away this morning, and goodness knows, that wasn’t how it was.’

      ‘Hah!’ Hannah snorted impatiently. ‘I suppose Piers came to tell you to keep the boy out of his way.’

      ‘Something like that.’

      Hannah shook her head. ‘The man’s a fool! Can’t he see the resemblance between them? Both so stubborn! Both blaming you for something that wasn’t your fault. I could knock their heads together!’

      ‘If only it was that simple,’ sighed Abby wryly. ‘You know, I really believed that sooner or later Piers would begin to have doubts.’

      ‘I doubt his mother would have let him,’ retorted Hannah crisply, taking Matthew’s eggs out of the pan. ‘You really reinforced her position when you became pregnant so soon after your marriage. And she’s had years to brainwash Piers into believing that story about you and Tristan.’

      ‘I suppose Tristan going away didn’t help.’

      ‘No.’ Hannah conceded the point. ‘And for a while, the Olivers were very bitter. But Lucy’s grown up now. Do you remember Lucy Oliver? Well, she’s grown up and married, and her husband’s taken over the running of the farm.’

      ‘Tristan went to Canada, didn’t he?’

      ‘Yes,’ Hannah nodded. ‘And I believe he’s done very well. He’s married, too, of course—a Canadian girl, naturally. They have three children.’

      ‘Lucky Tristan!’ Abby gave a rueful sigh. ‘How much simpler it would have been if I’d married Tristan when I had the chance.’

      ‘You didn’t love him,’ declared Hannah practically. ‘You think it would have been simpler, and perhaps it would, in some ways. But Abby,’ do you honestly think you’d have been happy, over a prolonged period? All right, so things with Piers didn’t work out as you expected. At least you took your happiness while you had the chance.’

      ‘For which I’m paying now,’ remarked Abby dryly, putting up both hands to massage the aching muscles at the back of her neck. She moved her shoulders helplessly. ‘Why couldn’t Piers at least have given me an opportunity to explain? Or if he had agreed to speak to Dr Morrison again, taken some more tests——’

      ‘Abby, Abby …’ Hannah gazed at her compassionately. ‘You really can’t be that naïve! Not after more than twelve years of marriage. You know how important these things can be; particularly to a man. Piers had taken that medical, on his mother’s advice, to assure himself that there was nothing wrong——’

      ‘But the tests must have been wrong, you know that!’ Abby exclaimed, blinking back the tears that persistently pricked at the backs of her eyes.

      ‘Maybe.’ Hannah acknowledged her words. ‘But the fact remains that Piers had no reason to doubt their veracity. Surely now you realise how he must have felt. Good heavens, he didn’t even tell you, even though that had been his mother’s intention all along.’

      ‘But she couldn’t have believed that it would make any difference to my feelings for Piers!’ Abby was incredulous.

      ‘Why not? Most young women want children, even today.’

      ‘But we could have adopted a child.’

      ‘It’s not the same. Or at least, Piers didn’t think so. Abby, try to put yourself in his position. How would you have felt if some doctor had told you you couldn’t have children?’

      Abby shifted in her seat. ‘Nevertheless, he should have given me a chance to explain——’

      ‘I suppose he should. But the evidence was pretty damning, wasn’t it? And then your discovering you were pregnant only weeks later.’

      ‘Aunt Hannah!’ Abby gazed indignantly at her aunt. ‘Whose side are you on?’

      ‘I’m only playing devil’s advocate,’ replied Hannah smoothly. ‘I sympathise with you, my dear, you know I do. But I can’t help thinking that running away didn’t help anything.’

      ‘I couldn’t have stayed here.’ Abby shuddered. ‘I couldn’t have had my baby here.’

      ‘Why not?’

      Abby shook her head. ‘I didn’t want Piers to see me. I didn’t want him watching me, observing me—despising me when I grew fat and ugly——’

      ‘Pregnant women do not grow fat and ugly,’ exclaimed Hannah, impatiently. ‘Stop exaggerating, Abby. You ran away because you hadn’t the guts to stay and face them!’

      ‘Aunt Hannah!’

      ‘Well, it’s true, Abby. I’m sorry, but it is. You’ve let the Roths determine how you live your life. Oh—going off to London may have been fine, and I’m not denying you’ve made a niche for yourself there. But don’t imagine it was solely to prove your independence you left Rothside. You left because you let the Roths drive you away.’

      Abby got up from the chair and walked unsteadily across to the windows. ‘Is that what you really think of me?’ she asked, in a small voice, and Hannah clicked her tongue before going after her and slipping her arm about her.

      ‘My dear, you mean everything to me, you know that. But it’s no use deluding yourself that by running away from a problem you can evade it. Sooner or later it always recoils on you, and I suggest that this is what’s happened now.’

      ‘With—with Matt, you mean?’

      Hannah nodded.

      ‘But what can I do?’

      ‘Well, running away again isn’t going to help.’

      ‘What do you mean?’ Abby turned to look at the old lady.

      ‘Matthew isn’t going to forgive you until you can prove to him that you were not to blame for what happened.’

      ‘And how can I do that?’

      ‘By coming back here to live. By giving him the chance to see his father as he really is.’

      ‘No.’ Abby moved her head vigorously from side to side.


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