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Saul’s heart sank.
He had tried his best to explain to the children that they were Hillary’s children as well as his and that she loved them and wanted them with her. The older two, Robert and Jemima, had understood even though they had both forcefully expressed their desire to stay with him. With Meg, however, it was proving much harder to explain that it was not just a legal requirement that her mother had access to her, but also his own conviction that at some stage in their lives all three children were going to want to have contact with their mother and that if he acceded to their desire now not to have to visit her, then not only would he be guilty of depriving them of an emotional bond he believed they needed to have, but ultimately there could possibly come a time when they would blame him as an adult and their father for allowing them to make a decision they were at present too immature emotionally to make. And it was for that reason, for their sakes, that he had been at such pains to keep his divorce from Hillary and the subsequent custody case as unacrimonious as possible.
As it was, it would be a long time before he forgot the telephone call he had received from Hillary three months ago, hysterically demanding that he fly over to America immediately and collect the children because they were destroying her relationship with her new husband, who had demanded that she make a choice between the children of her first marriage and him.
Predictably, being Hillary, she had chosen him. But then, Hillary had never been a particularly maternal woman. They had married impetuously and without really knowing one another, and Saul still felt guilty about the fact that despite knowing how ill-equipped emotionally Hillary was to cope with two small children, how resentful of them she felt, he had given in to her desire to have a third child to try to mend their failing marriage.
But much as he might regret the reasons for Meg’s conception, Meg herself he could never regret, and he was determined that she would never know that in many ways she had been the final nail in the coffin of her parents’ faltering marriage.
‘I never wanted children. I don’t like children,’ Hillary had stormed petulantly at him during one of their all too frequent rows.
And Saul was ashamed now to remember that he had re taliated equally bad-temperedly. ‘Well, you certainly don’t seem to like mine.’
His. Well, they were certainly his by law as well as by birth.
‘But how will you cope?’ Ann, his mother, had asked him anxiously when he had initially told her of his decision to fight for full custody of the children. ‘I’ll do what I can, of course, but...’
‘Look,’ Saul had told his mother, ‘you and Dad have your own lives to lead. We all know how much Dad is looking forward to retiring. I’ll manage, don’t worry.’
And so far he had, but there were times, like tonight for instance, when his regular babysitter couldn’t make it and he was forced to swallow his pride and turn to his family for extra help.
One answer, of course, would be to employ someone full time to live in, but he didn’t want the children to feel that he was offloading them onto someone else and he certainly didn’t want them to start thinking that he didn’t either love or want them and especially not little Meg, who had come back from the States so heartbreakingly insecure and clingy.
‘Did you have a nice time at Auntie Livvy’s?’ Meg asked him.
‘Very nice, thank you,’ Saul fibbed.
When Olivia had telephoned him to invite him over for dinner and to tell him excitedly about her friend who was relocating to work for the same firm as him, reminding him that they had previously met both at her and Caspar’s wedding and Amelia’s christening, he had had no intimation or warning of what the evening held in store.
Yes, he remembered Tullah. What red-blooded heterosexual man would not? She had the kind of looks, the kind of figure, that was instantly appealing to the male psyche. There was something about that combination of thick, lustrous hair, creamy skin and wonderfully curvy body that suggested a sensuality, a lushness that had a far more instant and dizzying effect on male hormones than any bone-thin, media-lauded model-type of woman.
What man looking at Tullah’s full, soft mouth and her even fuller and softer breasts could resist imagining what it would be like to lose himself in the sheer pleasure of touching her, caressing her, kissing her, making love with her?
Politically incorrect such thoughts might be, but they were undoubtedly an important part of what made a man a man, and to Saul’s mind at least, tolerably acceptable as long as they remained restrained and controlled in the male mind. But then, as he had discovered tonight, Tullah had her own inimitable way of ensuring that any private male fantasies involving herself were very quickly squashed.
Perhaps it was the shock of the contrast between the soft, feminine lushness and apparent warmth of her body and the antagonistic, almost aggressive sharpness of her manner that had made him feel so taken aback by her obvious hostility towards him, or perhaps it was simply a rebel male gene of vanity because she was so plainly dismissive and contemptuous of him. He didn’t know. What he did know was that he had a hard time fighting with himself not to respond to her aggressive and spiked remarks both as a defendant and a protagonist.
And the problem wasn’t confined to the fact that she was simply a friend of Olivia’s. There were other complications. She was going to be working for the same organisation and...
Meg made the little snuffling sound that meant that she had finally fallen asleep. As he bent down to gently kiss her cheek and tuck her in, Saul wondered wryly what on earth he had done to offend fate so much that she insisted on sending him so many problems.
First his marriage to Hillary and then the problem he was currently facing with Louise and now this. Tiredly he made his way back to his own bedroom, throwing his robe onto a chair before pushing back the covers and getting into bed.
It was ironic the effect a bad marriage—a bad relationship —could have on you. He now actually enjoyed sleeping alone. It was a relief to wake up in the morning without Hillary there next to him, both of them ready to begin the next round in their ongoing battle.
Wearily he closed his eyes.
Saul groaned pleasurably in his sleep, inhaling a deep, sensual breath of the delicious scent of the woman in his arms; she smelled not of some expensive designer perfume but of her own special, deeply feminine and intensely erotic scent. He had been aware of it and her all through dinner and had ached then to do as he was doing right now, breathing in the scent of her; he tasted it on his lips as he kissed the soft curve of her throat, nibbled his way along her jaw towards her mouth.
Her hair was a heavy, silky dark cloud of satin softness where it lay against his skin as subtly perfumed as the rest of her, her arms as rounded and smooth as the intoxicatingly female contours of her breasts. He deliberately delayed allowing himself the longed-for pleasure of kissing her mouth.
Drawing his lips along the velvet softness of her inner arm, he felt her whole body quiver as he gently caressed the inside of her elbow with the tip of his tongue until she wrenched her arm away from him to wrap both of them tightly around him and begged him to make love to her ‘property.’
‘Properly...what do you mean properly...what is properly?’ he teased her huskily whilst she pressed herself closer and even closer to him, the hard points of her breasts pushing against his skin, driving him insane with their sensual demand for attention.
‘Stop talking and kiss me,’ she whispered, her palm insistently turning his face towards her own, her lips already parting....
‘Mmm...’ Saul stroked his hand down the side of her body, trying not to allow himself to linger anywhere, not even on the satin warmth of the inside of her thigh when she trembled as he caressed her. ‘Oh, I’m going to kiss you all right, Tullah,’ he told her thickly. She gave another soft, protesting moan and writhed eagerly against him. ‘I’m going to kiss you until that deliciously soft, irresistible mouth of yours is—’
‘Daddy...daddy. Wake up. I feel sick...’
Reluctantly Saul opened his eyes and blinked dazedly up at his son.
‘I feel sick,’ Robert repeated urgently. ‘I—’
‘Yes, all right...come on....’ Saul was already on his feet, swinging Robert up into his arms and hurrying towards the bathroom with him.
Robert had had a very severe bout of infant gastroenteritis as a baby, so severe, in fact, that at one point their doctor had warned them that he might not survive. He had, but with the legacy of a digestive system that was acutely sensitive. They made it just in time.
Saul knew from experience that Robert’s bouts of sickness were wrenching but thankfully short-lived. However, it certainly looked as though he wasn’t going to get much more sleep tonight, which probably wasn’t a bad thing, given the nature of the extremely erotic and extraordinarily inappropriate dream Robert had woken him from.
The subconscious was an odd thing. a very odd thing, he decided before firmly banishing the enticing, lingering image his mind had conjured up of Tullah lying voluptuously naked in his bed, still warm from their shared lovemaking.
That he should have dreamt about her at all was bad enough, but that he had been enjoying the dream so much, had been so aroused by it. so determined to hang on to it that he had fought against waking up and responding to Robert, was even worse.
He couldn’t remember the last time he had had a dream like that. In fact, if he was honest with himself, he couldn’t remember any time he had been so intensely and so physically aroused. Not even with—
‘Daddy...’
‘It’s OK, Robert.’
Sternly rebuking himself for his thoughts, he turned to minister to his son.
CHAPTER THREE (#udcac84e5-c51c-519c-b607-50426fb7065c)
‘AND I’ll keep my fingers crossed that the offer you’ve made on the cottage is accepted,’Olivia promised as she gave Tullah a goodbye hug.
As she returned it, Tullah was guiltily aware of the fact that she had not exactly been the perfect weekend guest. It went against her whole credo for living to be manipulative or underhand in any way. She couldn’t pretend to share Olivia’s rose-tinted view of her cousin Saul, but neither5 did she want to leave without at least making some attempt to explain to Olivia why she felt so antagonistic towards his type.
‘Livvy, about last night,’ she began a little awkwardly. ‘I realise that you probably thought I was overreacting with Saul and—’
‘Well, you did rather surprise me,’ Olivia admitted ruefully as she interrupted her. ‘You’re certainly the first woman I’ve ever known to react to Saul in quite that way.’ tullah opened her mouth to point out that at least one other woman must share her animosity towards him, otherwise he wouldn’t be divorced, but before she could say anything, Olivia was continuing cheerfully, ‘Mind you, it’s probably just as well. The situation’s difficult enough at the moment with Louise deep in the throes of an intense crush on him.’
‘Yes,’ Tullah sympathised readily. ‘I appreciate that that must be an awful situation for...for her parents. I could see how distressed Jenny looked last night when Saul asked her when Louise home.’
All the distaste and disapproval she felt about Saul’s be-haviour in not just allowing but actively encouraging Louise’s crush on him showed in Tullah’s voice as she spoke.
‘It’s typical of the kind of man that the Sauls of this world are that he didn’t even think twice about how he might be offending or hurting Jon and Jenny by introducing the subject of Louise. It was obvious that they weren’t at all happy with the situation and who could blame them?
‘I mean, I know he’s your cousin, Livvy,’ Tullah told her fiercely, her emotions darkening her eyes as she remembered how she had felt for the older couple the previous evening. ‘But what kind of man...what kind of decent, caring, mature man who feels good about himself as a man and who feels really at ease with his masculinity, his sexuality, experiences the need to keep on massaging his ego by seducing a string of younger and younger naive girls?’
As Tullah paused for breath, she saw that Olivia was looking rather shocked.
‘I’m sorry,’ she apologised contritely. ‘I know, of course, that you probably don’t share my views and that your opinion of Saul is bound to be different from mine especially in view of the...the relationship you and he—’
‘Tullah, Saul and I—’ Olivia began, only to break off in maternal concern as Amelia, who had been playing quite happily a few yards away in the garden, let out a frightened cry. ‘Oh no! She’s probably trying to catch another bee,’ she told Tullah. ‘Amelia darling...’
‘Oh dear,’ Tullah sympathised as they exchanged another brief hug and stepped back from each other, leaving Olivia free to go and rescue both the indignant bee and her small daughter whilst Tullah got into her car.
‘I think I’ve discovered why Tullah is so antagonistic towards Saul,’ Olivia commented to Caspar over dinner several hours after Tullah had left.
‘Mmm... You mean there is a reason and it isn’t just that she’s a woman of incomparable taste and good sense who couldn’t help but prefer me?’ Caspar joked.
‘No, I’m afraid I cornered the market in that particular brand of good taste and sense.’ Olivia informed him gravely, trying not to giggle.
‘Oh well, go on, then. What deeply traumatic reason lies behind her aversion?’
‘It isn’t funny, Caspar,’ Olivia warned him. ‘At least it isn’t when you know about Tullah’s background. Her parents divorced when she was in her teens, and very shortly after that an older man...a family friend, in fact, on whom she’d got a massive crush, instead of realising that what she was really looking for was a father substitute, someone to treat her gently and give her the nonsexual love her father had deprived her of, decided instead to use Tullah’s innocence and naivety to boost his own flagging ego.
‘She was only sixteen at the time and she believed he loved her. He told her that his marriage was over, the usual kind of thing, and of course, she fell for it and she now seems to have jumped to the totally wrong conclusion that Saul is doing exactly the same thing to Louise as this man did to her.’
‘Ahh...I’m beginning to see daylight. You put her right, of course,’ Caspar commented as he helped himself to a second helping of pudding.
‘No...Amelia tried her latest bee-catching trick before I could and then by the time I’d rescued the bee and calmed Amelia down, it was too late. Tullah had left. Do you really think you should eat that?’ she asked her husband conversationally. ‘All that cream will be loaded with cholesterol, and you—’
‘I need the energy,’ Caspar told her. ‘Or have you changed your mind about enlivening our incipient bee-keeper’s life with a little bit of sibling rivalry?’
‘Not at all,’ Olivia responded, adding provocatively, ‘but if we’re going to do that, I can think of far better uses to put that cream to....’
‘Such as?’ Caspar invited.
‘I thought you weren’t going to make it,’ Olivia commented warmly to Saul as he and the children joined them in the departures lounge.
The whole family had gathered to wave Ruth and Grant off for their regular biannual visit to the States.
After fifty years apart with each believing the other bad betrayed their love, they were now happily reunited, and in keeping with the spirit of the mock prenuptial agreement both of them constantly teased the other with, they had fallen into a pleasant routine of spending three months in Haslewich followed by three months in Grant’s home town in New England.
It was Bobbie, Ruth’s American granddaughter and her cousin Luke’s wife, who would miss them the most, Olivia acknowledged. For this trip a very special concession was being made for Joss, Jon and Jenny’s younger son who had always been especially close to Ruth, who together with Jack, Olivia’s own brother, was being allowed to go with the older couple and spend some time with the New England side of the family.
‘Mmm...I was afraid we wouldn’t make it,’ Saul responded after he had hugged Ruth warmly and shaken Grant by the hand. ‘Robert had another bad night.’
‘Oh dear, is he...?’
‘He’s fine now,’ Saul assured her, anticipating her question and nodding in the direction of his three children who were huddled in a small group with all the younger members of the family, including Joss and Jack.
‘What with Robert’s sickness and Meg’s nightmares, you can’t be getting much sleep,’ Olivia sympathised.
‘Nowhere near enough,’ Saul agreed ruefully, ‘and not just because of the kids.’
But when Olivia looked questioningly at him he simply shook his head. There was no way he was going to enlighten even someone as close to him as Olivia about the fact that his sleep had been broken not just by the children but far more disturbingly by dreams about her weekend guest, dreams of such intense sensuality and sexuality that if he hadn’t been a mature man in his thirties he would have blushed to even have recalled them.
‘Oh, Gramps...I so wish I was going with you,’ Bobbie wailed, hugging her grandfather tightly as the notice flashed up to say that their plane was boarding.
‘Thanks a lot,’ Luke, her husband, teased her ruefully, looking round for someone to hand their baby daughter to whilst he comforted his wife.
‘Here, let me take her,’ Saul offered, deftly taking the child from him and expertly settling her comfortably against his shoulder as his own Meg sidled up to him and slipped her small hand into his.
‘Can I have a look at Francesca?’ she asked him. As she studied the sleeping baby. Meg informed him chattily, ‘My friend Grace at school, well, her mummy’s going to have a baby. Will we ever have a new baby, Daddy?’ she asked him, crinkling her forehead.
‘Don’t be stupid, Meg. Only mummies can have babies and we...’
Saul grimaced to himself as Robert overheard their conversation and spoke scornfully to his younger sister.
‘I’m not stupid,’ Meg responded heatedly, ‘am I, Daddy?’
Jemima, his elder daughter, eyed them both with disfavour. His little Jem, Saul called her, and in many ways he felt that the break-up of their marriage had been the hardest for her to cope with. At eight, she was mature mentally for her years and just beginning to grasp the concept of the intricacies of adult relationships and to know that adults were not infallible.
He had always felt that she was more her mother’s child than his, and it had surprised him to discover how passionately and intensely she had wanted to return to England and to him.
‘Our mother won’t have any more babies.’ she informed her siblings sharply. ‘She doesn’t like children.’
Saul caught his breath.
What Jemima had said in essence was the truth. Hillary did not like children and she had already informed him that since her new husband did not like them, either, she had decided to be sterilised.
‘Something I should have done before I married you,’ she had told him starkly and more than a little bitterly when she had informed him that she wasn’t going to contest his having full custody of the children.
‘She loves you,’ he told the three of them now as they watched him. And how could it not be true? Hillary might not like children but surely she must love her own. What mother could not do?
At eight, seven and five, their three had, he accepted, been conceived too closely together for a woman who was not particularly maternal. He accepted, too, that the larger part of the responsibility for them in their early years, especially Jemima and Robert, had fallen on Hillary.
With Meg it had been different; their last-ditch attempt to rescue their marriage and cement it together with Meg’s conception had been a sanity-threatening mistake and grossly unfair to Meg herself.
Six weeks after her birth, he had arrived home one afternoon, prompted by heaven alone knew what paternal sixth sense, to find Hillary on the point of leaving for America—without the children and without apparently having any intention of telling him what she was doing.
Later that day, having failed to persuade Hillary to change her mind, he had gone to pick the children up from the child-minder and had promised them mentally then that even if he might have failed as a husband and a lover, he would not fail them as a father...a parent....
‘When is Louise coming to see us again?’ Meg asked later when they were on their way home, ‘I like her.’
‘She doesn’t like you.’ Jemima sniffed disparagingly. ‘She only comes round to see Dad, really.’
‘Jem...’ Saul warned her, glancing in the rear-view mirror to give her a stern look whilst he monitored Meg’s quivering bottom lip.
They were just so vulnerable...all of them in their different ways. Meg with her fear of the dark, clinging to him, Rob who thought that boys shouldn’t cry and who made himself sick instead, and Jem...big, brave, cynical Jemima who wrung his heart with her studied and oh so heartachingly fragile defence of contemptuous disdain mixed with anger.
Listening to Tullah on Saturday night had reminded him of Jemima.
Tullah...
