скачать книгу бесплатно
He didn’t look disturbed, of course. He looked utterly at ease, as always, with that good-humoured assurance that had taken him through more dangerous situations than Georgia cared to think about.
‘Hi, Toby,’ he said casually, but wisely made no move to get any closer or to engage him in conversation.
Toby was very wary of strangers and hated being overwhelmed by attention. It had taken him a long time to accept Georgia, and even now she still had to handle him with care. Geoffrey’s laborious attempts at conversation were met with monosyllables at most. More worryingly, he didn’t seem to be any more forthcoming at school, and he was slow to make friends.
Mac turned back to Georgia and produced a mango from his pocket with a flourish. ‘For you,’ he said, holding it in his outstretched palm, and Georgia’s breath snared in her throat.
It was just a fruit. A beautiful piece of fruit, plump and juicy, its skin blushing from pinkish-green to ripe red, but still just a fruit, and not even that rare. You could even buy mangoes in Askerby nowadays, if you were lucky.
But for Georgia mangoes meant so much more than a exotic edge to a fruit salad. Mangoes meant long, hot tropical nights, creaking ceiling fans and eerie yips and yowls in the darkness beyond the veranda. Mangoes meant Mac. She had never eaten one until he had cut one carefully into almost-cubes so that she could bend back the skin and eat the fragrant orange flesh easily, and for her the taste would forever be associated with him. Just the sight of one was enough to swamp her with memories.
Almost without thinking, she reached out and took the mango from Mac and held it to her nose. Breathing in its distinctive smell, she was instantly transported back to their veranda in West Africa. Mac would cut up the mango for her and watch her as she ate it, the juice running down her chin.
‘You eat mangoes the way you make love,’ he would tell her, smiling in a way that made her blood flare, and he would lean across to kiss the stickiness away. ‘I love the way you do that. Everyone else sees just a little bit of you, the particular, precise Georgia, but I know what you’re really like. I know that behind that prim and proper façade, you’re a very naughty girl!’
They always ended up making love when he brought her a mango.
It was the happiest Georgia had ever been. Memories of those times gripped her cruelly now, tightening her chest until she could hardly breathe. She could just stand there dumbly holding the mango, struggling to make her lungs work once more.
Why couldn’t Mac be like Geoffrey, who brought her flowers without fail? They were always lovely flowers, not just a tired old bouquet from a garage forecourt, but nonetheless Georgia never had the sense that Geoffrey had any idea of what she would really like. He brought her flowers because that was the correct thing to do, and Geoffrey was always correct. Sometimes she wished he would surprise her, bring her a shiny conker he had picked up in the street, or a pot of honey, or a book that he thought she would enjoy.
Or a mango.
Why did Mac have to be different? she wondered in despair. Why did he have to choose the one gift that would mean so much, that would unlock so many memories? He had an uncanny ability to get under her skin when she least expected it, when she was certain that she could resist him, when she thought she was prepared.
Georgia’s hands closed around the mango. ‘You’d better come in,’ she said, her voice shaking with the effort to keep it neutral.
‘What’s that?’ said Toby as she stepped back to let Mac inside.
‘This? It’s a mango.’
‘No, that,’ he said impatiently, pointing at the camera around Mac’s neck.
‘It’s my camera,’ said Mac easily, and pulled it from around his neck. ‘Do you want to have a look at it?’
Toby nodded and, to Georgia’s consternation, Mac handed him the camera.
‘Um…do you think that’s a good idea?’ she said meaningfully. The camera was his livelihood, after all, and professional cameras didn’t come cheap.
‘It’s fine,’ said Mac, looping the strap around Toby’s neck. ‘He won’t drop it.’
Toby frowned down at the camera. ‘It doesn’t look like a camera,’ he said suspiciously. ‘It’s not digital.’
‘No,’ Mac agreed solemnly, ‘and you can’t use it to make a phone call, either! This is a camera that just takes pictures.’ He paused. ‘Would you like me to show you how it works?’
Toby nodded again, and Georgia was too pleased to see him interested to object when Mac sat down with him on the sofa and showed him how to look through the camera and use the telescopic lens.
So much for clearing up before her visitors arrived. Mac wouldn’t have noticed if he’d had to wade knee-deep through a rubbish tip to get to the sofa. He was as oblivious as Toby to any mess.
Life must be so much easier if you could just blank out whatever you didn’t want to see, Georgia reflected. She would have loved to have been the kind of person who simply didn’t notice or didn’t care about her surroundings. Sadly, she was obsessive—according to Mac, anyway—about keeping her surroundings clean and tidy, and there was no way she could enjoy her supper with the room looking like this.
Sighing inwardly, Georgia got down on her knees and began to pick up toys while Mac and Toby bent their heads over the camera. She was too used to Mac continually clicking away to be bothered when they began pointing the camera at her and talking about framing a picture. One thing about being married to a photographer, you never got shy when someone got out their Instamatic and started snapping photos. After a while, it was just background noise and you stopped feeling self-conscious in front of a camera.
It was oddly comfortable to be clearing up while the man and the boy sat on the sofa, absorbed in what they were doing. It felt almost normal. Was this what it would have been like if she and Mac had had a family? Georgia wondered.
Wrapped up in her thoughts, she didn’t at first register that Mac was talking to her.
‘Sorry?’ she said, sitting back on her haunches and smoothing a stray hair back from her face.
‘I was just saying that Toby and I could finish tidying up if you want to go and change.’
Mac’s blue eyes held a strange expression as they rested on her, and for some reason Georgia flushed.
‘It’s all right, thanks,’ she said stiffly, aware for the first time that she was still wearing her work clothes. ‘I don’t usually bother to change any more.’
Mac frowned. He had always loved the moment when she would change in the evenings. That was when she would unbutton the crisp, cool Georgia and let the secret Georgia out, the Georgia who ate mangoes in a way that made the breath dry in his throat, the Georgia who was warm and loving and so sensuous that it was hard for him to think clearly when she was near.
‘Why not?’
Georgia shrugged. ‘Oh, the usual reason—no time. There’s just too much to do every evening.’
And there was no one to change for any more, she added to herself as she gathered up some plastic counters that were scattered over the carpet.
Oh, there was Geoffrey, of course, but he inevitably came from work in his suit and, anyway, he would no doubt think that it was practical of her to stay in her work outfit too. Georgia couldn’t imagine how he would react if she were to greet him at the door wearing one of the little numbers she had used to wear for Mac.
But she had been younger then, and everything was different now.
Mac watched her crouching down, piling Toby’s toys into a box, and he felt the old familiar tightening of his chest. Her skirt was tight over her bottom and thighs, and he could see the graceful curve of her spine, the way her silky top rode up slightly as she stretched out.
He had once asked her why she wore such prim clothes instead of dressing like the warm, sexy woman that she really was. ‘Because when I’m with you it’s the only way I can keep any control over what’s happening,’ she had said. ‘With you, everything’s chaos. I don’t know which way up I am when you’re there, and when you’re not I don’t know where you are or what you’re doing. At least if I get up and put on some suitable clothes to go to work, then I feel as if I’ve got some control over what’s happening.’
Poor Georgia; it hadn’t been easy for her, Mac thought with some compunction. She liked everything in its place and firmly under control, and she had never got used to the fact that love just didn’t work like that.
‘Can I take a picture of Georgia?’ Toby asked him, holding the camera reverently.
‘Sure,’ said Mac absently, still thinking about Georgia.
‘Look at me, Georgia!’
Glad to hear him sounding so animated, Georgia looked up dutifully and smiled.
Toby lifted the heavy camera in his thin hands and pointed it at her, then glanced up at Mac. ‘Now?’
‘Well, you could take it now,’ Mac agreed, ‘but she doesn’t really look like Georgia when she’s posing like that, does she? The thing about Georgia is that she’s not an easy person to capture,’ he went on easily, talking to Toby as if he were an interested adult rather than a small boy who simply wanted to press a button. ‘You’ve got to think of it like hunting a wild animal. You have to be very quiet and wait until she’s forgotten that you’re there with a camera, and then—snap!—you can catch her unawares.’
Toby was listening intently to his advice, although Georgia was sure that he had no idea what Mac was talking about. She did, though. Catching her unawares, the way he had done today, was what Mac had always done best.
Well, he wasn’t going to capture her this time.
Over Toby’s head, she met Mac’s amused navy-blue gaze, her own eyes bright with unspoken challenge, and the space between them was suddenly charged with an electric tension that sparked and sizzled alarmingly.
It was interrupted by the ring of the doorbell. ‘That’ll be Geoffrey.’ Georgia leapt to her feet in relief. ‘Toby, can you just finish putting away the last of the toys?’ she asked, without much hope that he would oblige.
Toby heaved a sigh. ‘Geoffrey’s Georgia’s boyfriend,’ she heard him mutter glumly to Mac as she headed for the door. ‘He’s boring.’
Georgia suppressed an equally heavy sigh. She wished Toby would accept Geoffrey. He might not be fun or have a ridiculously expensive camera for Toby to fiddle with, but he was a nice man and very kind, quite apart from being the only friend they had at the moment.
She wished he wasn’t standing on the other side of the door, though.
It was bad enough with Mac here, making her feel edgy and hassled, without having to deal with the two of them together. Dinner was shaping up to be its usual disaster, too. What Georgia really wanted was for both of them to disappear so that she could put Toby to bed and collapse on to the sofa with a stiff gin.
Still, it was too late for that now. Pinning a suitably bright smile to her face, she opened the front door.
CHAPTER THREE
PUNCTUAL to the minute, Geoffrey was standing there with—surprise, surprise—a bunch of flowers.
‘They’re lovely, thank you, Geoffrey,’ said Georgia, dutifully accepting the proffered tulips and a kiss on the cheek. ‘Come in.’
He followed her into the living room where, much to her surprise, Mac and Toby were on their knees, putting the last of the toys into the box.
‘Oh…thank you,’ she said, rather thrown by this evidence of helpfulness on Mac’s part. She was fairly sure Toby wouldn’t have done it on his own, but then Mac had never been able to comprehend the need to see the carpet before you walked on it, either.
‘I knew you wouldn’t relax until it was done,’ said Mac virtuously. Getting to his feet in a leisurely way, he offered his hand to Geoffrey, who had stopped dead at the sight of him. ‘Hello, there,’ he said.
Too late, Georgia realised that she should have thought how she was going to handle the introductions. ‘Um…you remember Mac, don’t you, Geoffrey?’
‘Mac…?’ Geoffrey looked at her in dawning dismay.
‘Mac Henderson,’ Mac reminded him helpfully, and quite unnecessarily. ‘Georgia’s husband.’
‘Ex-husband,’ snapped Georgia.
‘Husband?’ said Toby.
‘We met once at dinner at Georgia’s parents’ house,’ Mac went on, obviously enjoying Geoffrey’s consternation.
‘I remember,’ said Geoffrey stiffly, taking Mac’s hand and shaking it with obvious reluctance.
‘Husband?’ Toby asked again, looking from Georgia to Mac. ‘Does that mean you’re married?’
‘No,’ said Georgia, just as Mac said ‘Yes,’ and Geoffrey looked disapproving.
Georgia sucked in her breath crossly, furious with Mac for mentioning the subject in the first place, but reluctant to start an argument in front of Toby.
‘It’s a long story,’ she told him after a moment. ‘I’ll explain it to you later, but for now I think it’s time for bed.’
Toby’s mouth turned down at the corners. ‘But it’s not time yet!’ he said with a scowl.
‘It is time,’ Georgia insisted. The prickly atmosphere was making her edgy, and gave her voice a sharper edge than normal.
‘Oh, but Georgia…’ Toby moaned. ‘Mac hasn’t finished showing me his camera.’
‘I can do that upstairs.’ Mac stepped in, seeing that Georgia was looking frazzled. ‘Why don’t you show me your room, and we can take a picture up there? I expect Georgia would like to talk to Geoffrey on her own, anyway.’
Georgia would, but she didn’t like Mac calmly arranging her life for her. On the other hand, getting Toby upstairs was half the battle most of the time, and she didn’t want to embark on a big confrontation in front of Geoffrey, who thought Toby was too undisciplined at the best of times.
‘That’s a good idea,’ she said, managing a tight smile. ‘Why don’t you go up with Mac, and I’ll come up and say goodnight in a bit?’
‘What’s he doing here?’ Geoffrey demanded the moment they had gone.
‘He says he wants to talk about the divorce,’ said Georgia, conscious of a twinge of irritation.
She didn’t have to explain to Geoffrey. She’d made it very clear that for now they were simply friends, and that she wasn’t prepared to take their relationship any further until she had divorced Mac. She had every intention of doing that, but until then Geoffrey had no right to disapprove of anyone she chose to invite to her home.
‘He turned up out of the blue this afternoon, and I thought it would be better to talk about things over supper. There’s no reason we shouldn’t be civilized about this.’
‘You might have warned me!’ said Geoffrey, still huffy.
‘I tried, but Ruth said that you were busy.’
‘I was with a client, hence I couldn’t come to the phone.’
Irritation flickered again at Geoffrey’s fondness for the word ‘hence’. He used it a lot and it always grated on Georgia, although she wasn’t usually as exasperated by it as she was today.
That was Mac’s fault, she thought darkly. Geoffrey had hardly irritated her at all until he turned up. He had just been kind and helpful and friendly—as he still was, Georgia reminded herself guiltily. She could put up with ‘hence’ if it meant having a steady, reliable friend like Geoffrey by her side.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said penitently. ‘I wish I had been able to warn you that Mac would be here tonight. It was a bit of a shock to me too when he turned up, but perhaps it’s not a bad thing. Now that he’s here we can talk properly, face to face, and sort things out. With any luck Mac will sign the papers while he’s here, and then I’ll be able to move on. I did explain that I didn’t want to start a proper relationship with you until I’d done that.’
‘Yes, you did,’ Geoffrey agreed. ‘And you know I think you’re worth waiting for. I’ve waited a long time, and I don’t mind waiting a bit longer.’ He smiled. ‘But you can’t blame me for getting impatient sometimes!’
Georgia kissed him impulsively on the cheek. ‘Thanks for understanding, Geoffrey.’
How different he was to Mac, who would never have stood patiently by and given her the space she needed to sort out another relationship! With Mac it was always all or nothing.
Which only went to show that Geoffrey was a much better man for her.
Geoffrey followed her into the kitchen as she checked the meal. She had never been a very enthusiastic cook—OK, she was a terrible cook—but Geoffrey liked home cooking, so she was trying to make more of an effort.
After all, he was making so much more of an effort for her. He was holding back when he could have been pushing, giving her time when he could have been issuing ultimatums, offering support when she needed it most. Trying to follow a few recipes seemed the least she could do in return, although there were times, like now, when she was tired after a day at work and dealing with Toby, that Georgia wished she could just pop into the supermarket on the way home and buy something easy.
Tonight she was making pork with prunes followed by plum crumble. Geoffrey wasn’t fond of garlic or spices, which made it difficult to come up with ideas sometimes, but this menu had seemed safe enough. Shame it was all so…brown.
Georgia wrinkled her nose and closed the oven door. Too late to do anything about it now. She would just have to hope that it tasted better than it looked.
Leaving Geoffrey in charge of opening a bottle of wine, she went upstairs to say goodnight to Toby. Rather to her surprise, she found him sitting up in bed and chatting to Mac.
She paused, unnoticed, in the doorway, struck by the animation in Toby’s face. He never looked that happy and interested when he was with her, she thought sadly, and her eyes slid of their own accord over to Mac, who was lounging on the other bed, arms behind his head and long legs crossed, careless of his boots on the coverlet, and looking utterly relaxed.
