A Special Kind of Woman. Caroline Anderson
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one, a hugely awkward lump that seemed determined to defeat her, when she felt the weight taken out of her hands.
‘Here, let me,’ a soft, deep voice murmured.
‘Thanks.’ She stepped back and smiled, then their eyes met and her heart hiccuped behind her ribs. ‘Oh—you’re Josh’s father,’ she said inanely.
‘That’s right. Owen Douglas.’
‘I’m Milly’s mother—Cait Cooper.’
‘Her mother? Good heavens. I thought you were her sister or aunt or something.’
Flattery? If it weren’t for the wedding ring on his hand and the fact that he was helping her, not the other way round, she would have thought he wanted something. Under the circumstances she gave him the benefit of the doubt and blamed it on the poor lighting.
‘Hardly,’ she said, studying him and thinking what a terrible shame it was that he was married. Not that he’d be interested in her. No man worth having ever was. Oh, well.
He flashed her a rueful smile over the top of the box that nearly melted the soles of her shoes. ‘I’d shake your hand but I seem to be holding something just a tad heavy at the moment.’
‘Oh, my goodness, I’m sorry!’ She leapt to attention. ‘Can you manage it?’
‘I think I’ll just about cope,’ he said drily. ‘You’ll have to show me the way, though.’
‘Of course—she’s on the second floor,’ she told him over her shoulder, heading up the stairs at a fast clip. ‘Josh must be on the floor above.’
‘He is. I think he’s giving Milly a tour at the moment. We’ve finished, at last. I can’t believe he thinks he needs this much.’
Cait laughed. ‘We’re not the only ones, then? I’m sure most of what you’re struggling with is non-essential.’
‘Nothing’s essential,’ he said drily. ‘Not by the time you’ve lugged it up three flights of stairs.’
He lowered the box to the last square inch of space on Milly’s floor, and straightened with a smile, holding out his hand. He must be fit, she thought. He isn’t even breathing hard.
‘It’s good to meet you, Cait,’ he said, and belatedly she reached out her hand and felt it totally engulfed in a warm, hard grip that robbed her of her senses. She mumbled something about small worlds, and he laughed.
‘Not really. There aren’t that many medical schools—you’re almost bound to meet someone you know.’
‘Well, I’m very glad we met you! Quite apart from you lugging that huge box upstairs for me, it’s comforting to know she’s not totally alone in this big, bad city.’
He shot her an understanding smile. His eyes crinkled and seemed to glow with warmth from their amber depths, and she felt herself melting again. She could still feel the imprint of his hand on hers, and something deep in her heart that had been in hibernation for ever seemed to flicker into life.
How long they stood there staring at each other she didn’t know, but Milly and Josh erupted into the room and broke the spell, and a girl opposite came out and introduced herself, and suddenly Cait felt redundant.
‘Time to make a move,’ Owen murmured, and she nodded distractedly.
‘Come on, Josh, come and see me off,’ he said, and his son’s face seemed to falter.
‘Oh. Right. See you, Milly.’
Milly nodded, and the girl from the next room looked from her to Cait and said she’d see Milly later, and went out, leaving them alone.
‘Want me to help you unpack?’ Cait asked, not knowing whether to prolong the agony or get the heck out of it before she made a fool of herself.
‘I can manage,’ Milly said. ‘It’ll give me something to do until teatime.’
‘Now, the phone in here should be working for me to ring in, they said, so I’ll call you when I’m home, and you’ve got your mobile if you need me—’
‘It’s OK, Mum. I’ll be fine.’ She hugged Cait, and Cait wrapped her arms around her and thought how slight Milly felt, how small and slender and fragile and much too little to be here, doing this all on her own.
‘Right, I’ll be off before I get a parking ticket,’ she said brightly, and kissed Milly on the cheek. ‘Remember, I’m there if you need me. Love you.’
She hugged her daughter again, a brief, hard hug, and then turned and made her way sightlessly through the corridors and out into the street. The Mercedes was gone, so she backed into the space, pulled out into the street and made her way out into the hum of the London traffic.
I won’t cry, she told herself firmly, and then again out loud, ‘I won’t cry! She’s doing what she wants to do. She’s happy! She’s made it. There’s nothing to cry about.’
But there was, of course, because her baby had grown up and flown the nest, and now Cait would be all alone.
‘You’ll be able to do what you’ve always wanted to do. You’ve enrolled for that course in Law, and you can read books and go to films and museums and art galleries, and do all the things you’ve never had time for.’
Intellectual things. Not family things. She’d be clever and better educated, but she’d be lonely.
She sniffed hard and scrubbed her cheeks on the back of her hand, then had to dig about in her pocket for a tissue. She wandered into the next lane and got a blast on a horn for her pains, and after that she turned on the radio and sang to it, very loudly and utterly off key, all the way out of London onto the A12.
Then finally her bravado fizzled out, and she turned off at a roadside restaurant, folded her arms on the steering wheel and laid her head down and howled.
‘Idiot,’ she told herself disparagingly a few minutes later. ‘You must look a total fright.’
She lifted her head, blew her nose vigorously and glared at herself in the rear-view mirror. Red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes glared back at her, and she sighed unsteadily. ‘Coffee,’ she said, and opened the car door, to find Owen Douglas standing there, immaculately clad legs crossed at the ankle, propping up a familiar Mercedes estate.
‘You OK?’ he said softly, and she closed her eyes in despair. Of all the times to bump into someone you didn’t know well enough to howl on.
‘I’ll live,’ she muttered, and forced herself to meet his eyes. They were gentle with understanding, and suddenly she was glad he was there because, know him or not, he was at least in the same boat.
‘You look like I feel,’ he said with a rueful smile. ‘How about a coffee?’
She nodded. ‘I was just going in. Have you only just arrived?’
He shook his head. ‘No, I was leaving. I’m in no hurry, though, and I’m sure I could force down another cup. You know what they say about misery loving company.’
Her laugh was a little strangled, and it ended on something suspiciously like a sob, but at least it was a laugh, and maybe she’d cried enough.
‘Coffee sounds good,’ she said, and for the first time in hours, she managed a genuine smile. ‘Thanks.’
‘My pleasure,’ he murmured, and his voice sent little fingers of anticipation shivering up and down her spine.
Don’t be a fool, he’s married, she told herself fiercely, but his eyes were smiling and her heart was clearly not listening at all…
CHAPTER TWO
SHE looks gutted, Owen thought as they headed towards the restaurant. Empty and hollow and a little lost, just how he felt. He held the door for Cait and caught a drift of scent—not really