All The Fire. Anne Mather
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could you?’ queried Dimitri, rather sardonically. ‘You’re not psychic, are you?’
‘No, but – well – I’m so sorry… .’ Her voice trailed away.
Dimitri lifted his broad shoulders in an eloquent gesture. ‘So are we all,’ he commented sombrely. ‘Your stepmother – your half-sister …’
Joanne’s face suffused with colour. ‘I have a half-sister?’ she said wonderingly. ‘I didn’t know.’
Dimitri’s eyes grew sceptical again. ‘I can’t believe that,’ he muttered roughly.
Joanne looked at him again. ‘Why not? My father did not apprise us of his affairs!’ she said stiffly.
‘Did he not?’ Dimitri raised his eyes heavenward. ‘My dear Miss Nicolas, one of us has been grossly deceived!’
Joanne bit her lip. ‘I don’t understand you.’
‘Obviously not.’
‘Stop talking in innuendoes!’ she exclaimed suddenly. ‘If you have something to say to me, say it!’
Dimitri gave her a half-smile, but it was a sardonic salutation. ‘Very well,’ he said, with a sigh. ‘Your father wrote regularly to your mother. Not only that, he continued to support you both long after it was necessary to do so!’
‘That’s not true!’ She scarcely let him finish. ‘My mother would accept nothing from my father – after – after he deserted us!’
Dimitri endeavoured to control the anger that her words aroused in him. He must try to accept that she was more innocent than he would have believed possible. ‘It is true!’ he said tightly. ‘I can prove it, if you give me time!’
Joanne’s eyes mirrored her distrust of him. ‘Is there more?’ she demanded, biting her lips.
‘Much more,’ he snapped, a trifle impatiently. ‘Much, much more! So much that I doubt my capacity for telling you without losing my temper!’
She stared at him unhappily. ‘Then don’t tell me,’ she said, rather chokingly. ‘Surely you can see you are as biased as I am?’
Dimitri heaved a sigh. ‘Won’t you sit down?’ he inquired tautly. ‘Some of this must be said. I insist. If only for the sake of your father who is still alive. Your mother is dead. What I say cannot hurt her now.’
Joanne hesitated, and then with a gesture she perched rather nervously on the edge of the banquette. ‘Very well,’ she said quietly. ‘What have you to say?’
‘Merely this,’ said Dimitri heavily. ‘Your father is a man involved with his family – every member of his family, and that includes you. Whatever has gone before, he is prepared to forgive you and take you back.’
Joanne stared at him. ‘Take me back?’ she echoed, uncomprehendingly.
‘Maybe my choice of words was unsuitable in the circumstances,’ said Dimitri, leaning his hands on the table and looking down at her. ‘But that was what your letter accomplished, Miss Nicolas!’
Joanne could not meet his gaze for long, and her lashes veiled her eyes. ‘So that was why you imagined I had written to my father,’ she said slowly. ‘Your fears were unfounded, Mr. Kastro.’
Dimitri straightened and frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
Joanne looked up. ‘Surely it’s obvious. Naturally the news of my father’s illness has shocked me, but ultimately it alters nothing.’
Dimitri uttered an expletive. ‘You don’t seem to understand what I am trying to say, Miss Nicolas,’ he affirmed with emphasis. ‘Your father sent me here to bring you back to him!’
Joanne looked positively astounded. ‘My father did what?’
‘I think you heard what I said, Miss Nicolas. What other reaction did you expect him to have?’
Joanne shook her head bewilderedly. ‘I didn’t imagine he would react in any way,’ she exclaimed. ‘After all, why should he? He never bothered about me all these years—’
‘That is not true!’ said Dimitri harshly. ‘You must not labour under that misapprehension!’
‘What do you mean?’ Her young face was strained.
‘Exactly what I say! Believe me, Miss Nicolas, this is as distasteful to me as it is to you, but it seems your mother has deceived you on various points. Your father did not abandon you without making absolutely certain you were well taken care of. And during the years since your parents’ divorce, he has regularly apprised himself of your activities.’
Joanne got unsteadily to her feet, and walked shakily across the room to where a tall window overlooked the bleak aspect of the car-park. ‘I – I can’t believe it,’ she said unevenly. ‘Why – why would my mother do a thing like that?’
Dimitri shrugged. ‘Who knows? Perhaps for the same reasons she discouraged every attempt Matt made to see you.’
Joanne swung round. ‘He tried to see me?’
‘When you were a child, yes. Your mother could not absolutely deny him the right when reasonable access had been granted by the courts, but she made it plain that any attempt he made to do so would meet with her disapproval and he realized that it would be impossible to have any kind of normal relationship with you without her condolence.’ Dimitri sighed. ‘Besides, he considered it unfair to place you between them like a bone of contention. I suppose later – after Marisa was born he became less aggressive, and Andrea naturally didn’t encourage his interest.’
‘This is the woman he married, of course,’ Joanne’s voice was chilled.
‘Yes.’
Joanne shook her head. ‘It’s incredible! I always thought my mother was completely independent. She worked, you know. She had an office job. I didn’t attribute her adequate income to anything except good housekeeping.’ She bit her lip. ‘Anyway, if my mother considered her reasons for keeping us apart were reasonable, I shouldn’t contest them.’
Dimitri studied her pale face. ‘Do you think her reasons were adequate?’
Joanne twisted the strap of her handbag. ‘I’m hardly in a position to judge. I was so young when – when they separated.’
Dimitri stifled an exclamation. ‘Obviously, it is impossible for us to discuss something so personal,’ he said brusquely. ‘However, my reasons for being here are impersonal, to me at least, and it is necessary that we should discuss them.’
‘You mean – my going to see my father?’
‘Of course.’
‘Well, that’s impossible! Absolutely impossible!’
Dimitri frowned. ‘Why?’
‘It’s not that simple,’ Joanne exclaimed. ‘I have a job to do. I can’t take time off – just like that.’
‘Then give up your job. Your father will support you.’ There was contempt in Dimitri’s expression now.
Joanne gave him an eloquent stare. ‘I prefer my independence,’ she averred quietly.
He shrugged. ‘What is your job?’
‘I’m a secretary to a group practice of doctors.’
‘Not an irreplaceable position,’ he commented dryly.
‘No. But I like it,’ she replied hotly. ‘And my holiday is fixed for June. I’m getting married then.’
‘Indeed?’ Dimitri’s voice was like ice. ‘While your father is slowly dying.’
Joanne gasped, and bent her head. ‘That’s a cruel thing to say,’ she whispered.