One Night with Morelli. KIM LAWRENCE
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romantic.’
Eve’s brows lifted. ‘You think?’
‘You know, I agree with you totally that Dad has behaved very selfishly over the years to Sarah, but your mum is the best thing that has happened to him,’ Hannah said earnestly. ‘I’m just glad he’s woken up to it. I can’t wait for Sarah to be my mum.’
‘She’s a good mum to have,’ Eve said, a lump forming in her throat as she thought of all the sacrifices her single mum had made over the years. She deserved the best and she was getting Charlie Latimer. Eve’s small hands tightened into fists, her nails inscribing half-moons into her palms. ‘I think she already thinks of you as a daughter.’
‘I hope so.’ Hannah’s blue eyes filled with emotional tears, which she blinked to clear as the door to the interconnecting room opened to reveal the bride.
Her face almost as white as the dress she was wearing, Sarah Curtis stood for a moment framed in the doorway before taking a step and almost immediately grabbing onto a table to steady herself. Reacting faster than Eve, Hannah was on her feet in an instant, her beautiful face creased in lines of concern as she rushed to supply a steadying hand to the older woman.
‘Are you all right, Sarah?’
Eve blinked. She wasn’t seeing her mother’s pale face as she was transfixed by the miles and miles of tulle her mother was wearing. The first sight of the outfit on its hanger earlier had rendered her literally speechless and it had been left to Hannah to make the necessary congratulatory noises. Somehow she had managed to sound totally sincere.
Hannah had to be a better actress than she had previously thought because the get-up was quite memorably awful and—what was worse—inappropriate. Eve didn’t know what had possessed her mother to suddenly decide to channel her inner princess!
Sarah gave a wan smile. ‘All I need is a bit of blusher.’
Hannah threw her a knowing look, her hands on her hips, and the older woman sighed heavily, suddenly looking sheepish. ‘All right, I wasn’t planning to tell you girls till later because I’m not quite twelve weeks yet and—’
It had to weigh a ton, Eve thought, sizing up the intricate beading on the mile-long train that was many a girl’s dream. But not hers; she had never dreamed of wearing such an elaborate get-up. Did that make her weird? If so she was glad, she decided defiantly! How did a woman in her forties think that it was in any way appropriate to wear a white meringue wedding dress?
She dragged her gaze upwards just as Hannah, looking totally regal in her beautifully fitting dress—actually she was a princess for real these days, a fact that Eve still hadn’t got her head around—walked over and hugged her mother. Both women were crying, to Eve’s confusion. Had her mum finally realised that the dress was a disaster?
‘You could always ditch the train,’ Eve suggested, trying to remain practical and upbeat for her mother’s sake. She knew she just had to suck it up today and be there for her mum in the future when things went sour with Charles, as they inevitably would.
Sarah, sniffing, laughed. ‘I wish it were that simple. I didn’t have any morning sickness at all with you, darling, but this time…’ She rolled her eyes and accepted the glass of water that Hannah passed her.
Playing mental catch–up, Eve blinked. Morning sickness…? She must have misheard. You only got morning sickness when you were…pregnant!
A stunned vacant expression clouding her green eyes, she felt herself hit a mental brick wall. The impact made her mind go blank and she sat down with a gentle thud on the window seat. Paler even than her mother, she sat there not even breathing until finally her chest lifted in a long shuddering sigh and her lashes swept down in a concealing curtain. She stared at her hands and waited for the dull metronome thud in her ears to subside, but it didn’t.
‘There, that’s better—all you needed was a bit of colour.’
A hand absently rubbing the nape of her neck, Eve looked up as her friend applied a finishing flick of blusher to the older woman’s cheeks.
‘You’re p-pregnant, Mum. H-how?’ Two sets of raised eyebrows turned her way and Eve blushed. She was regressing; she no longer stuttered or blushed. ‘Well, I suppose that explains it.’
‘Explains what, Eve?’ Sarah asked.
Eve shook her head and thought why the rich scumbag Charlie Latimer had suddenly decided, not only to make his secret affair with his cook public knowledge, but to marry the woman who had been his mistress. It didn’t involve a sudden attack of respect or love for Sarah; it was all about the possibility of an heir.
Not that Hannah looked as though she minded the possibility of being disinherited—her friend looked delighted.
‘I knew it,’ Hannah said smugly as she dabbed the moisture from around her soon-to-be stepmother’s eyes. ‘Whoever invented waterproof mascara deserves a medal—not that you’d know about that, Eve.’ She flashed her friend, who had been blessed with naturally thick dark lashes that required no embellishment, an envious smile before turning back to Sarah. ‘I said to Kamel last night that I thought you might be but he said that just because I’m—’ She stopped and covered her mouth with her hand. ‘I wasn’t meant to say anything until Kamel has told his uncle because of all this protocol. You won’t breathe a word, will you…?’
‘Oh, Hannah, darling, Kamel must be thrilled!’ Sarah’s waterproof mascara was once again being put to the test as she reached up to hug Hannah.
‘We both are, but Kamel is acting as though I’m made of glass. He won’t let me do a thing, and the man is driving me crazy,’ Hannah confided with a laugh.
The expression in her friend’s eyes when she said her husband’s name made Eve look away feeling uncomfortable, almost as though she had intruded. Eve was prepared to like the prince her friend had married because he was clearly as potty about Hannah as she was about him, but the cynic in her wondered how long the honeymoon period would last.
‘You’re both having babies.’ Eve was still playing mental catch-up.
Looking mistily ecstatic, Sarah clapped her hands. ‘Isn’t that incredible? Our family is growing, girls.’
‘A real family,’ Hannah chimed in.
Eve cleared her throat. It was obviously her turn to respond, but what to say…? She managed a faint and unimaginative, ‘Incredible.’
She’d moved a long way on since she had lain awake at night wishing she had a real family. Eve had pretty quickly realised that not having a father, at least not one willing to acknowledge she existed, was actually a blessing, not a curse. Unlike the majority of her classmates she had been spared the trauma of seeing her parents going through an ugly divorce or separation.
Her mum had not even had boyfriends until she came to work for Hannah’s father. Hannah had caught on much sooner than Eve and she had been more concerned by the secrecy than the relationship itself.
For Eve, it hadn’t just been the secrecy, it had been everything, and the longer the affair had lasted, the deeper her anger had grown as she’d watched helpless to do anything while her mother allowed history to repeat itself as she had become what amounted to the plaything of man who treated her like the hired help in front of his rich and powerful friends.
Charles Latimer might not be married but in every other way he was her own father—a selfish loser who used and humiliated her mum. Of course, back then Sarah had been a young impressionable student on her first holiday job—easy pickings for her unscrupulous rich employer.
What Eve could not understand was how her mother could let it happen again when she was now an independent, intelligent woman. How could she allow herself to be used and humiliated like this…? Where were her pride and self-respect?
Did Mum realise that he was only marrying her because of the baby? Eve wondered. Well, at least he was one step