His Love-Child. Jacqueline Baird
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Stephen cut in, glancing up at her and talking with his mouth half full. ‘You must try these pastry things with honey on them. They are much better than porridge.’
Willow grimaced. ‘Not so good for your teeth, though; make sure you clean them after you have finished eating.’ Pouring some cream in her coffee, she lifted the cup to her lips; she needed this.
‘You are perfectly right,’ Judy supported her. ‘But excuse an old woman for spoiling the little one.’
‘I’m not little,’ Stephen said smartly. ‘I am eight.’
‘Sorry, Stephanos, of course you are a big boy, and I have no doubt you will end up as tall as your father in time.’
‘Will I really, Mum?’ he asked.
‘I think it is a pretty safe bet,’ Willow said dryly, grinning down into his beloved face. He was still young enough to turn to her for confirmation, his trust in her still absolute. But for how much longer, she wondered, now that his father was on the scene?
‘I can see I am going to end up feeling like the midget of the family very soon,’ Judy joked, and, turning to Willow, she added, ‘But I don’t care, set against the joy of seeing my grandson grow up. You cannot imagine how marvellous it is to have Theo’s child in my house, my grandson. His grandfather must be rejoicing in heaven, I am sure,’ and to Willow’s surprise moisture glazed Judy’s golden brown eyes. ‘Forgive me, I am still a little emotional.’
‘No, please, there is nothing to forgive.’ Then, taking the bull by the horn, she did what she knew she had to do. ‘If anyone needs forgiveness it is me. I should have tried to get in touch with you sooner.’ There, she had said it. Willow took a deep, steadying breath and lifted the cup of coffee to her lips and drained the contents in one go.
‘Go and find your father, Stephanos, and tell him to dress you properly before coming back or you will burn.’
‘Oh, I’ll do that.’ Willow made to rise. ‘I forgot too much exposure to the sun is so harmful.’ Judy must think she was the world’s worst mother.
‘No.’ Judy laid a restraining hand on her arm as Willow went to follow Stephen’s quick departure from the table. ‘No, stay. Let Theo learn a little of what is involved in looking after a child. Plus, I want to talk to you.’
Willow settled back in the chair, her blue eyes wary. Here it came—question-and-answer time; she was not looking forward to it one bit.
‘There is no need to look so fearful, dear. Theo has told me everything.’ Not everything, surely, Willow thought, turning scarlet with embarrassment. ‘And you have nothing to be ashamed of. He told me how you went looking for him in London when you knew you were pregnant, and how the house he and Anna had shared was in the process of being converted to offices. He also said that he had never given you his home address or even a telephone number,’ she said, disapproval evident in her tone.
‘I love my son, Willow, but I am not blind to his faults. I know that when he was in his twenties he had many women, with no thought of commitment. If anyone was at fault it was Theo. He had no right to seduce you and then marry another woman only six months later, and you pregnant with his child. No girl should have to suffer such indignity, and you took the only course of action open to you. I would have done the same myself in your position. So let us say no more about it; the matter is closed.’
‘That is very generous of you,’ Willow said softly. Her blue eyes met with Judy’s shimmering brown and there was no doubting the sincerity in the older woman’s compassionate gaze. ‘But I doubt if Theo thinks the same way.’
‘Someone taking my name in vain?’
Willow jerked upright in her seat at the sound of Theo’s deep drawl. He came to a stop a foot away, and she felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle in instant awareness. Reluctantly she turned her head to look up at him. He was dressed in a casually cut linen suit and a white open-necked shirt and he was pulling out the chair next to hers.
‘So?’ he prompted with a brief smile for her and a brilliant one for his mother as he sat down. Stephen, now dressed in khaki shorts and a crisp white tee shirt, had been following along behind his father and quickly scrambled back into his seat.
‘What does in vain mean, Mum?’ Stephen asked, grabbing her attention.
‘It usually means,’ Judy responded, with her gaze narrowed on Theo, rather than Stephen, ‘that when you listen in to other people’s conversation and hear your name mentioned, invariably the people concerned are not speaking well of you.’
Willow turned puzzled eyes back to Theo, and to her utter amazement she watched as a dull tide of red swept along his high cheekbones. He was actually embarrassed. That had to be another first…
‘I was just reassuring Willow that I don’t hold her responsible for keeping me apart from my grandson. She must have been very young and very frightened.’
‘Mum was eighteen when she had me,’ Stephen cut in, and for once Willow wished he were not quite so bright or so inquisitive.
‘Eighteen?’ Judy gasped and the look she gave her son could have stripped paint. ‘Oh, you poor child,’ she said, her sympathetic gaze settling on Willow. ‘But no doubt your family helped you?’ she prompted.
‘We don’t have any family. My grandmother and my great-grandmother both died the year before I was born,’ Stephen continued. ‘We live in Great-grandma’s house now and we have tons of photographs of them and things.’
It was getting worse by the second. ‘Really, Stephen, I don’t think anyone is interested,’ Willow admonished.
‘Yes, do go on, son,’ Theo encouraged him, his attention suddenly fully arrested.
‘Well, Tess, our neighbour, knew them both; in fact everyone in the village knew them. Isn’t that right, Mum?’
‘Yes.’ What else could she say?
‘It is sad to lose one’s grandmother, but to lose your mother at the same time must have been devastating. Was it an accident?’ Judy asked quietly.
‘No, well, yes. Half and half,’ Willow said, clenching her hands tightly on her lap. She wished everyone would drop the subject.
‘Half and half is no answer,’ Theo opined flatly and, flicking him a sidelong glance, she saw the distaste in his dark eyes.
What had she expected from the man—sympathy, compassion or at the very least some tact? She must be mad; the man hadn’t a grain of sensitivity in his soul.
‘You’re right, Theo, of course.’ She smiled thinly. ‘My grandmother died of natural causes at Easter time and if you remember I visited my mother in India the same summer.’ The bitterness in her blue eyes was only for him. To the other two at the table she was still smiling. ‘Mum got caught up in a riot in India, the week before she was due to come home in the September, and she was killed by a stray bullet.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Theo murmured.
She tore her gaze away from his. Too little, too late, she thought scathingly, and she did not see the colour drain from his face or the shock in his dark eyes.
‘Oh, you poor girl,’ Judy murmured.
‘Yes, well, it was a long time ago, and Stephen and I manage very well on our own.’ She reached out and touched her son’s arm, more for her own comfort than his. Then to her amazement Judy directed what sounded like a tirade in Greek at Theo.
‘Forgive my lapse in manners.’ Judy finally resumed speaking in English. ‘But you understand, Willow, you are a mother yourself—sometimes a son needs to be lectured, whatever their age.’ With a lingering glance at Theo’s stony face, she smiled at Stephen and added, ‘Now, young man, how would you like to visit the biggest toy shop in Athens?’
‘Not so fast, Mother,’ Theo said firmly. ‘Stephen.’