Sweet Surrender (The Dysarts) (13 page)

Left with a great deal of time to herself for introspection, Kate soon realised that in sending Alasdair packing she'd made a mistake. Because she was missing him badly. Now she was in a more stable frame of mind it was all too obvious that she didn't have to be wildly in love with Alasdair to enjoy his company. And, whatever her heart might feel about him, her body, even in its present battered state, clamoured for a repeat of the rapture experienced in his bed. Depressed, because this
would never happen again, she steeled herself to complete silence on his part. Then on her first day downstairs she received a sheaf of bronze and gold tulips. ‘From Alasdair' stated the card.

No love, or best wishes, or even a get well message. Those were the greetings which came with other flowers, from Phil and Toby and her colleagues in Foychurch, from friends and neighbours all anxious to wish her well. Downstairs the house was full of flowers everywhere in every possible container Frances could find, but Alasdair's tulips went up into Kate's bedroom—a circumstance her family nobly refrained from mentioning.

The tulips were only the first of Alasdair's offerings. Soon afterwards Kate received a parcel of brand-new books straight from the bestseller list, followed only days later by a selection of new releases on video to play on the VCR in her bedroom. Kate wrote brief, friendly notes of thanks after each arrival, secretly deeply touched by Alasdair's efforts to improve her convalescence. But eventually she gave up hoping he would visit her, and in darker moments even wondered if he'd sent the gifts to assuage his guilt over the accident. If so the guilt was unnecessary, she thought moodily. He'd rung that night out of anxiety for her. It was sheer bad luck he'd chosen the worst possible moment to do it.

When the next parcel arrived Kate opened the large box with anticipation.

‘What has Alasdair sent you this time?' asked Frances.

Kate stared blankly into the box after she'd removed the plastic chippings inside. ‘Wow,' she said faintly. ‘It's a DVD player.'

She took a card from the envelope inside and sat down abruptly.

‘We hope this is more to your taste than jewellery,' said the message. ‘With best wishes from Julia, Tim, Abby, Baby John and Jack.'

Frances leaned over Kate's shoulder to look. ‘Heavens above,' she said, sighing. ‘You certainly started something the evening you took that child home with you.'

‘I really can't send this back as well,' said Kate, frowning.

‘Of course not. Just send a note of graceful but restrained thanks.' Frances paused. ‘Do you think this is Mr Spencer's doing, too?'

‘I don't know. I'll address my thanks to them all in general.' Kate smiled. ‘You don't have to worry, Mother. Jack Spencer's a very nice man, with no dark, ulterior motive, I promise. He's not on an intellectual level with Alasdair, maybe, and certainly not as well off. But I can enjoy his company even so, just as I do with Phil and Toby.'

‘Just good friends,' said her mother, resigned. ‘Which is certainly not what Julian would settle for.'

‘Or Alasdair,' said Kate tartly.

‘You'd never guess!'

 

Alasdair broke his silence eventually by ringing Kate one evening after she'd taken herself off to her room to watch one of his videos on her old VCR.

‘How are you?' he asked.

‘Improving. How are you?'

‘Busy.'

‘How's the job?'

‘Demanding.'

Silence for a moment.

‘What were you doing when I rang?' he asked.

‘Watching one of videos you sent. You've been very
kind, Alasdair, and I appreciate the gifts. They were thoughtful. But I'm not an invalid now. You don't have to send me any more.'

‘As you wish. Did you post the brooch back?'

‘Yes. By the tone of her answering letter Mrs Cartwright obviously had no idea of its value.' Kate paused. ‘She sent me something else instead—a DVD player.'

‘A DVD player,' he repeated. ‘Spencer's idea again?'

‘The card said the gift came from the entire family, Jack included. And I can hardly send it back this time. Not that it's much use to me at present. I don't have anything to play on it—' The moment the words were out Kate could have bitten her tongue. ‘But I'm going to hire something from the local video shop tomorrow,' she added hastily, relieved when she heard a slight, but distinct chuckle from him.

‘Riveting subject though he is, let's forget Jack Spencer and his family for the moment. There's something I need to say.'

Kate waited, hardly daring to breathe.

‘Are you still there?' he demanded.

‘Yes.'

‘Kate, if you ever change your mind the offer's still on the table. You need only say the word.'

She let out the breath she'd been holding. ‘Thank you, Alasdair. But nothing's changed.'

There was silence for a moment. ‘I'd like to come and see you, Kate, just the same.'

No way, thought Kate in panic. Having gone this far without seeing him, she wanted—
needed
—to look a whole lot more appealing before they met again. ‘Alasdair, please don't be offended—'

‘But you don't want that,' he finished for her. ‘Right. Sorry I suggested it.'

‘Alasdair, you don't understand!'

‘I understand only too well,' he said bitterly. ‘Goodbye, Kate.'

She was depressed for days after the call and fully expected silence from Alasdair afterwards, but as time went by he rang occasionally, though there was no more talk of visiting her, nor a renewal of his offer. Instead he talked about his job and the progress on his house. They chatted about the approaching Easter holidays, and the family reunion expected at Friars Wood, and Kate expressed pleasure she was far from feeling when Alasdair informed her he was flying to New York.

Not, she assured herself afterwards, that she had the least right to feel jealous. What Alasdair did during the Easter break—even if he was doing it with Amy again—was nothing to do with her. But, in love with him or not, the thought of him in bed with another woman cut her to pieces. Disgusted with herself, she thrust the thought away and reminded herself that after the holiday she would be going back to Foychurch and her job, and life could get back to normal.

Before the holiday Kate took a trip to London to stay with Leo and Jonah, and let them to treat her to a frighteningly expensive haircut which did wonders for her morale. Now it had grown a little the genius with the scissors was able to transform her ragged mop into feathery curls, some of which fell in a half-fringe across her forehead to hide one scar. The rest, he assured her, would soon be long enough to curl on the back of her neck to hide the other.

The sum Leo handed over for the transformation took Kate's breath away, but her sister told her it was worth
every penny to see her smile at her reflection again. Kate was passionately grateful for the boost to her self-confidence. When everyone was together at Friars Wood over Easter she would be able to enjoy the occasion far more now she was looking more normal. Different, but definitely normal.

 

When Kate returned to Foychurch a couple of days before term started she stopped dead when she opened her cottage door. The room was full of flowers, so many that some of them were in containers which didn't belong to her. She went straight round to Mr Reith, who greeted her with affection and told her the flowers had been delivered earlier and, not knowing how late she would be, he'd put them in water in anything he could find, including some vases of his own. He told her she looked pretty as a picture with her new haircut, expressed his deep relief at her recovery, and handed her the card that had come with the flowers.

Back in her cottage Kate opened the envelope eagerly, but the welcome home message was from Jack Spencer, not Alasdair. Something she'd known, in her heart of hearts. Alasdair would never have sent such a vast profusion of flowers.

It was late that evening when Kate finally made supper from the various supplies Frances had packed into her new car. This was a second-hand model, a different make from her old one, but similar enough to feel familiar when she'd begun driving again. The first day out in it had been a nerve-racking experience. Before the accident driving had been like breathing, something she did without thinking, but now Kate found she had to drive every inch of the way with fierce concentration, and today's journey had left her so limp with fatigue
she'd needed a long, relaxing soak in a bath with a book before even thinking of food.

Someone knocked on her front door when she was about to eat her meal from a tray on the sofa, and Kate jumped up eagerly to answer it. But instead of Alasdair, as she'd so desperately hoped, she found Jack Spencer on her doorstep, in formal dark suit, looking taken aback at the sight of her.

‘Hello, Kate. You were obviously expecting someone else.'

She pulled herself together hurriedly. ‘No, not at all. Do come in.'

‘How are you?' he asked.

‘Almost as good as new. Thank you so much for the flowers.'

‘My pleasure. Your brother told me you were getting back today,' he said, the familiar smile firmly back in place, but his eyes still on her hair.

‘I arrived a couple of hours ago. In time to get myself together for a day or two before starting work. I'm just having a lazy supper in front of the TV.'

‘And I'm interrupting it,' he apologised, ‘so I'll get to the point. Have dinner with me one night to celebrate your recovery?'

Kate looked at him thoughtfully. Jack Spencer was a likeable, attractive man. But the flowers and the extravagant presents, and his visits to the hospital, probably meant he wanted some kind of relationship with her. And this was out of the question. She searched for a way to refuse without giving offence and smiled wryly when she saw he was still fascinated by her hair.

‘You look so different, Kate. New hairdo. What made you cut it all off?'

‘They had to chop it off at the hospital.'

He grimaced. ‘God, you were so lucky! What actually happened?'

She gave him a brief account of the accident, then expressed her thanks again, to him and to his family, for the DVD player.

‘Our pleasure.' he smiled sheepishly. ‘I obviously made a mistake, big time, with the brooch.'

‘I thought it came from your sister,' said Kate quickly, and he shrugged.

‘She wasn't up to shopping at the time, so I got it for her at Dysart's when I went to the auction, as you probably know.'

‘I do. And how much it cost. Which is why I sent it back.'

He nodded. ‘Jules gave me a right old lecture about it. So I thought up the DVD player instead.'

Be blunt, she told herself. ‘If it had come first I would have returned that, too, but I just couldn't do it a second time.' She looked him in the eye. ‘I did very little to deserve it, Jack. It was embarrassing.'

‘It wasn't meant to be!'

‘I know. Which is why I kept it. And your sister is the mother of one of my pupils, so I had no choice.'

‘Never mind Julia.' He perched on the window seat, obviously prepared to stay, and with a feeling of resignation Kate sat down on the sofa. ‘Let's talk about why you object to gifts from me, Kate.'

‘Is this just about you, then?' asked Kate. ‘I thought the gift came from the whole family.'

‘It did—'

‘But you paid for it?'

He shrugged. ‘I plead guilty on that one.'

‘And to posing as my fiancé to visit me in the hospital? Might as well get it all in the open at once.'

He grinned sheepishly. ‘I admit I sort of implied it to one of the nurses, so I could sneak in to see you. But I didn't know then that you'd lost your memory, Kate. You must know I wouldn't harm a hair of your head—' He bit his lip, and she smiled.

‘Don't worry. I won't throw a wobbly if you mention hair.' Kate felt sudden remorse. ‘If I've been rude I apolgise,' she began, but Jack held up a large, capable hand.

‘No, you haven't. I'm the one who's overstepped the mark, and I'm sorry. Put it down to a lack of finesse. When I want something I tend to go for it hell for leather.'

‘If you mean you want some kind of relationship with me,' she said gently, ‘I'm afraid that's not on.'

His mouth twisted. ‘Because of your friend Drummond?'

‘He has nothing to do with it,' she said untruthfully. ‘I just believe in being honest.' And Jack, she could see, wasn't enjoying her candour any more than Alasdair had.

‘So what's the problem? Do you actively dislike me? Or is it just that I'm lacking in the intellect department?' he demanded.

‘Your intellect seems in pretty good shape to me.' Kate smiled at him to soften the blow. ‘I like you very much, Jack. But—'

‘No buts,' he said quickly, and gave her a wry grin. ‘No need to fill in the blanks, Kate. I understand.'

She smiled gratefully, then looked at her meal waiting on the tray. ‘Look, have you eaten? I can soon rustle up some supper.'

He jumped up immediately, shaking his head. ‘I didn't come here for that, Kate.'

‘I know. But if you'll settle for salad and a wedge of
my mother's bacon and egg pie you're more than welcome,' she assured him.

Jack looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, then nodded. ‘Thank you, I will. I'd be a fool to turn down the only meal I'll ever share with you.'

Once she'd provided Jack with a hefty slice of the pie Frances had made because it was her daughter's favourite comfort food, Kate resumed her own meal. Now the air was cleared, and she felt he wouldn't misinterpret her interest, she asked Jack about his cottage.

He described the restoration work he was doing on it, talking with enthusiasm, until a peremptory knock on Kate's front door called a halt to the conversation. Her heart leapt, then sank like a stone as she opened the door to a very cold, hostile Alasdair Drummond.