Single Dads Collection. Lynne Marshall
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not a lot of work for marine ecologists in London!’
‘You could change your job.’
‘And do what?’ asked Will, stung by her tone, and annoyed with letting himself be drawn into an argument with Alice, who was typically holding forth on a subject she knew little about.
Her brittleness had vanished, and she was vivid once more, her cheeks flushed and her tawny eyes flashing as she waved her arms around to prove her point. Suddenly, she was the Alice he remembered, and Will was simultaneously delighted and exasperated.
It was an uncannily familiar feeling, he thought, not knowing whether he wanted to shake her or catch her into his arms. The rush of joy he felt at realising that the real Alice was still there was tempered by resentment of her unerring ability to home in on the very issue he felt most guilty about. He wouldn’t have minded if they’d been arguing about something unimportant, but this was his daughter they were discussing. Will was desperate to be a good father, and he didn’t need Alice pointing out exactly where he was going wrong five minutes after meeting him again.
‘Marine ecology is all I know,’ he tried to explain. ‘I have to support my child financially as well as emotionally, and the best way I can do that is by sticking with the career that I know rather than launching wildly into some new one where I’d have to start at the beginning. Besides,’ he went on as Alice looked profoundly unconvinced. ‘Lily isn’t my only responsibility. This project has taken five years to set up, and a lot of futures depend on it being successful. Of course Lily is important, but I’ve got responsibilities to other people as well. That’s just the way things are, and Lily’s going to have to get used to it.’
‘That’s an incredibly selfish attitude,’ said Alice, twirling her hand dramatically so that she could poke her finger towards Will’s chest. ‘It’s all about what suits you, isn’t it? All about what you need. What about what Lily needs?’
‘I’m her father,’ said Will tersely. ‘Lily needs to be with me.’
‘I’d agree with you, if being with you meant staying in a home she knew, with her grandparents and her friends and her routines.’
Alice knew that it wasn’t really her business, but Will’s complacency infuriated her. ‘Losing a mother would be hard enough for her to deal with even if she had those things to hang on to, but you’ve dragged her across the world to a strange country, a place where she doesn’t know anyone or anything, and by your own admission she doesn’t even know you very well!’
She drew an impatient breath. ‘Did you ever think of asking Lily what she wanted to do?’
‘Lily’s six.’ Will bit out the words, too angry by now to care whether Alice knew how effectively she was winding him up. ‘She’s not old enough to make an informed decision about anything, let alone where she wants to live. She’s just a little girl. How can she possibly judge what’s best for her?’
‘She’s old enough to know where she feels comfortable and who she feels safe with,’ Alice retorted.
Will gritted his teeth. Her comments were like a dentist drilling on a raw nerve. Did she really think he didn’t feel guilty enough already about Lily? He hated the fact that he was practically a stranger to his own daughter. He hated the fact that Lily was lost and unhappy and he seemed powerless to help her. He was doing the best that he could, and, yes, maybe it wasn’t good enough, but he didn’t need Alice to point that out.
That brief surge of joy he had felt at her transformation from a brittle nonentity into the vibrant, fiery creature he remembered was submerged beneath a wave of resentment, and he eyed her with dislike.
‘I thought you’d changed, Alice,’ he said. ‘But you haven’t, have you?’
She tilted her chin at him in a characteristically combative gesture. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You still hold forth about subjects you know absolutely nothing about,’ he said cuttingly. ‘You know nothing about my daughter, nothing about the situation and nothing about me, now, but that doesn’t stop you, does it?’
He gave a harsh laugh. ‘You know, I used to think it was quite amusing the way you used to base your opinions on nothing more than instinct and emotion. For someone so obsessed with fitting things into neat categories, it always seemed odd that you refused to look at the evidence before you made up your mind. But I don’t think it’s very funny anymore,’ he went on. ‘It’s pointless and narrow-minded. Perhaps, just once, you should try finding out the facts before you open your mouth and start spouting your personal prejudice!’
There was a stricken look in Alice’s golden eyes but Will swept on, too angry to let himself notice and feel bad about it.
He was fed up. It had been a hellish seven weeks. He was worried sick about his daughter, and he had a daunting task ahead to get a complex but incredibly important project off the ground. The last thing he needed was the inevitable turmoil of dealing with Alice.
This was typical of her. Time and again over the last eight years, Will had told himself that he was over her. That he was getting on with his life. That he wouldn’t want her even if he did meet her again. And then he would catch a glimpse of a straight back through a crowd, or hear a dirty laugh at a party, and his heart would jerk, and he would feel sick with disappointment to realise that it wasn’t Alice after all.
And now—now when he had so much else to deal with—here she was, with characteristically perverse timing, threatening to turn his world upside down just when he least needed it!
Well, this time it wasn’t going to turn upside down, Will determined. He had wasted the last ten years of his life getting over Alice, and he wasn’t going to waste another ten minutes. It was just as well that they had come face to face, he decided. It had reminded him of all the things about her that had used to irritate him, and that made it so much easier to walk away this time.
‘You know, I could stand here and pontificate to you if I could be bothered,’ he told Alice, his words like a lash. ‘I could tell you that you’ve thrown away everything that was warm and special about you, and turned yourself into someone brittle and superficial with dull earrings and silly shoes, but I won’t because, unlike you, I don’t believe in passing judgement on people I’ve only met for five minutes!’
Alice only just prevented herself from flinching at his tone. She had no intention of showing Will how hard his words had struck home. She managed an artificial laugh instead, knowing that she sounded just as brittle as he had accused her of being.
‘You’ve got a short memory, if you think we’ve only known each other for five minutes!’
‘You’re not the Alice I knew,’ said Will in the same, hard voice. ‘I liked her. I don’t like you. But that doesn’t give me the right to tell you how to live your life, so don’t tell me how to live mine. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and find the daughter you seem to think I care so little about before you accuse me of neglect.’
And, with that, he turned and headed down the steps towards the pool, leaving Alice alone on the decking, white with fury mixed with a sickening sense of guilt. She shouldn’t have said all that about his daughter. Will was right, she didn’t know the situation, and she had probably been unfair. She had let the bottled-up resentment about her own childhood get the better of her. She should apologise.
But not yet.
I don’t like you. Will’s bitter words jangled in the air as if he had shouted them out loud. Alice felt ridiculously conspicuous, sure that everyone had heard and everyone was looking at her. They were probably all thinking that they didn’t like her either, she thought miserably
Her throat was tight with tears that she refused to shed. She hadn’t let anyone see her cry about Tony, so she certainly wasn’t about to start blubbing over Will. She didn’t care if he didn’t like her. She didn’t care what he thought. She didn’t care about anything.
‘You