Juggling Briefcase & Baby Page 15

  ‘It’s…complicated,’ she said.

  ‘What’s complicated about loving each other?’

  ‘I think Romy’s trying to explain that we’re incompatible,’ Lex tried. This was the most bizarre business conversation he had ever had, but he supposed it was his fault for raising the matter in the first place.

  Willie raised a sceptical brow. ‘Is that right? I seem to remember seeing you two walking in the snow at Duncardie and you looked pretty compatible then.’

  The colour rose in Romy’s cheeks and Lex set his teeth. ‘We just…want different things.’

  ‘Haven’t either of you heard of compromise? A fine pair of cowards you both are!’

  Willie shook his head and pushed back his chair. ‘I can’t say I’m not disappointed,’ he said, ‘but it’s not the first disappointment of my life and I dare say it won’t be the last. Ah, well.’ He hoisted himself upright. ‘That was still a delicious dinner, Romy, so thank you for that-and for an interesting evening all round.’

  Lex and Romy exchanged a glance, and Lex got to his feet. A limousine would be waiting below to take Willie back to his hotel. ‘I’ll see you to the car.’

  ‘I didn’t have you down for a fool, Alexander Gibson,’ said Willie in the lift down to the basement garage, ‘but I’ve changed my mind!’

  ‘I can only apologise again,’ Lex said stiffly. ‘I wanted to make the deal so much, I let it override my judgement. I accept that it was a mistake.’

  ‘Well, I’ve made some mistakes in my own time,’ Willie allowed. ‘I’ve tried to learn from them, and I hope you will too. What you learn, of course, is up to you.’ He clapped Lex on the shoulder as they stepped out of the lift to see the limousine waiting. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  ‘You mean you’ll still sign?’ Lex hardly dared believe that it would be all right.

  ‘Oh, yes. You’re right about it being a good thing for both companies.’ His shrewd blue eyes rested on Lex’s face. ‘It’s a funny thing,’ he said, ‘how you can feel disappointed in someone and yet proud of them at the same time. I’ve been watching what you’ve done for Gibson & Grieve, laddie. You’ve moved into a whole new league, and you’ve got yourself a fine reputation. If you hadn’t, I would never have agreed to sell, no matter how married you were.

  ‘And knowing how much this deal matters to you means I can appreciate what it took for you to tell me the truth,’ he said. ‘It was the right thing to do, and I’m glad you did it. So I’m proud of you, and I’ll be happy to sign that contract tomorrow.’

  He smiled at Lex as they shook hands. ‘But that doesn’t mean I don’t still think you’re a fool when it comes to Romy!’

  Romy was clearing the table when Lex let himself back into the flat. She looked up, her hands full of plates, but put them back on the table when she saw his face.

  ‘So, no more pretending,’ she said.

  ‘No.’ Lex dropped his keys onto the side table.

  ‘Why did you tell him, Lex?’

  ‘I had to.’

  Loosening his tie, he went over to the window and stood looking down at the river. The lights along the Embankment were blurry in the drizzle, and he thought about Willie, driving back alone to his hotel.

  He turned to look at Romy, who was wiping her hands on a tea towel and watching him with dark, wary eyes.

  ‘He’s going to sign anyway.’

  Romy’s shoulders slumped with relief. ‘I thought he’d be furious that we’d been lying to him.’

  ‘He told me I was a fool,’ said Lex. ‘But he also understood what I’ve been trying to do with Gibson & Grieve. He said he was proud of me.’ Ashamed of the strain in his voice, he looked back at the view. ‘Do you know how long I’ve waited for my own father to say that?’

  Dropping the tea towel over the back of a chair, Romy went over to stand beside him. ‘Just because he hasn’t said it, doesn’t mean he doesn’t think it, Lex. If Willie can appreciate what you’ve done for Gibson & Grieve, then your father must be able to as well. It’s just more difficult for him to accept that he wasn’t indispensable, and that the company is moving on without him. You know that,’ she said gently.

  ‘Yes, I know that.’ Lex’s expression was bleak. For a while they stood side by side, looking out across the lights of London. Then he let out a long breath, letting the old frustration go.

  He glanced at Romy, then away again. ‘What did you mean when you told Willie that love wasn’t the problem?’

  ‘It isn’t,’ she said. ‘The problem is that love doesn’t last. The problem is that it isn’t enough.’

  ‘Willie thinks it is. It lasted forty-seven years for him and Moira.’

  ‘They were lucky,’ said Romy. ‘We might not be.’ She turned restlessly, rubbing her arms. ‘It’s all very well for Willie to say compromise, but how would that actually work? Do you really want to give up your tidy flat and your nice, ordered life?’

  ‘We could compromise in other ways,’ Lex suggested.

  ‘How? A flat like this isn’t suitable for a toddler.’ She gestured around her. ‘How long before I get fed up with all the sharp angles and slippy floors? Before I start resenting the fact that there’s no garden or other children nearby? Before I think that if I have to manoeuvre that pushchair into the lift one more time I’m going to scream?

  ‘And how long before you’re gritting your teeth about the mess? Until you’re exasperated by the chaos and the noise and disgusted by the dirty nappies and Freya’s runny nose?’

  Romy shook her head. ‘Compromise is hard, Lex. And I can’t take the risk that you’ll be able to do it. If it was just me, then perhaps. But I’ve got Freya to think about too. When you’ve got a child, you have to put practicalities before passion. I have to think about Freya and what she needs. She’d be better off in the country, where I can afford to give her a better life.

  ‘It would be so easy to stay here with you,’ she said. ‘To think, oh, well, let’s give it a go, but you said it yourself: we’re different, and we want different things. I don’t see how it could work, and if we try and it doesn’t work it’ll hurt all of us.’

  Lex was watching her pace fretfully to and fro, her arms hugged together.

  ‘So you’re saying that you love me, but you don’t love me enough to be sure it would work out?’

  Romy lifted her chin. ‘Do you love me enough to put up with all the mess and uncertainty that comes from living with a child?’

  Fatally, Lex hesitated, and she smiled sadly. ‘I didn’t think so.’

  ‘I think it might be worth a try,’ he insisted, but she shook her head.

  ‘I can’t take that risk, Lex. I don’t dare.’

  She drew a breath, let it out shakily. ‘Freya and I will go back to my flat tomorrow,’ she said. ‘Jo’s back next week, so the maternity cover finishes then. I’m going to move down to Somerset straight away.’

  ‘And what do we tell all those people who are now convinced that we’re having a raging affair?’

  ‘Tell them it didn’t work out,’ said Romy. ‘For once, we won’t have to pretend.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘I THINK that’s everything.’ Lex set down the high chair and the changing mat. The hallway of Romy’s tiny flat was crammed with bags and baby equipment.

  It had been a long day. They had both gone to the signing ceremony, and had smiled and smiled for the inevitable photographs. Then they had said goodbye to Willie Grant, who told them to get in touch when they’d come to their senses. And after that there had been nothing to do but to collect up all Romy’s stuff from the flat, and Lex had driven them home.

  Except it didn’t feel like home any more. The flat was cold and poky and dreary and Romy’s throat was so tight she could hardly speak. Any moment now, she was going to have to say goodbye to Lex, and she didn’t know how she was going to bear it.

  He looked all wrong in this shabby flat.

  Freya was sitting on the floor of the living room,
puzzled by suddenly finding herself somewhere new. She looked around doubtfully as if not at all sure what she was doing there. Romy knew how she felt.

  ‘Will I see you before you go?’ Lex asked at last, and she drew a breath to steady herself.

  ‘I think it’s probably easier if we don’t.’

  His eyes shuttered. ‘Perhaps you’re right.’

  The silence was excruciating.

  ‘Well.’ Romy lifted her hands and let them drop. ‘I…er…I should probably give Freya her tea.’

  ‘Yes. I’ll go.’

  Lex squatted down next to Freya and smoothed down the absurd quiff of hair. She looked up at him with those round, astounded eyes, her face dissolving into a smile, and the cold stone where Lex’s heart had once been splintered into shards. ‘Be good,’ he said, and straightened before his voice could crack.

  Romy was waiting by the door. Her dark eyes were shimmering with unshed tears.

  ‘I don’t know how to say goodbye,’ she confessed.

  ‘Then don’t,’ said Lex. He put his hands on her arms and wondered if this was the last time he would see her for another twelve years. ‘I love you,’ he said. ‘I’ve always loved you.’

  ‘And I love you.’ Romy was desperately blinking back the tears, but it was a losing battle. ‘I do,’ she insisted as if he hadn’t believed her. ‘I just wish…’

  She wished it were enough, but it wasn’t.

  ‘I know,’ said Lex, and, because there wasn’t any other way to say goodbye, he smoothed his hands up over her shoulders and up her throat to cradle her jaw. ‘I just wish too,’ he said, and kissed her.

  Romy leant into him, slipping her arms around his waist to hold him close, and they kissed, a fierce, desperate kiss that said everything words couldn’t.

  This will be the last time, Romy thought, even as her senses spun. The last time I touch him. The last time he kisses me. The last time I feel as if I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.

  Even as she tried to hold onto the sensation, Lex was giving her one last, longing kiss and dropping his hands. He stepped back and reached for the door. Opened it.

  Romy was standing exactly where he had left her, her mouth pressed in a straight line to stop it shaking, and her eyes dark and dazed.

  Unable to resist one last touch, Lex wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb. ‘Goodbye, Romy,’ he said gently, and then he was gone.

  The phone was ringing as Romy manoeuvred the pushchair into the narrow cottage hall and shut the door behind her. Keys still clenched between her teeth, she ran into the kitchen to grab the cordless phone, only just remembering to spit out the keys in time.

  ‘Hello?’ she said breathlessly.

  ‘Romy? It’s Mum. I’m afraid I’ve got some sad news.’

  Gerald Gibson was dead. ‘Another stroke,’ Molly told Romy. ‘A merciful release in some ways, but of course Faith is devastated. He wasn’t an easy man, but she adored him and she feels so alone now. She’s got Lex and Phin, I know, but it’s not the same. She and Gerald loved each other so much, I often thought those boys missed out.’

  The funeral was to be the following Friday. ‘You should be there for Faith,’ her mother said. ‘She’s your godmother. And Phin was always a good friend to you, wasn’t he?’

  And Lex, Romy wanted to cry. Lex mattered most of all.

  She had been in Somerset for seven weeks, and everything had fallen into place as if it were meant to be. She had found a little cottage in the same village as Jenny. It was a bit like living in a doll’s house, with tiny rooms and a handkerchief garden, but it was enough for Freya. If Romy sometimes felt as if she couldn’t breathe, and thought longingly of Lex’s spacious apartment, well, that was a price of independence and she was happy to pay it.

  Michael lived nearby, but not too close, and he and Kate had taken Freya for the afternoon a few times now. She hadn’t spent the night with them yet, but Romy had no doubt that would come. Michael was making the effort to get to know his daughter, and that could only be a good thing. He had offered Romy financial support, but she had suggested that he invest the money for Freya instead. A relationship between Freya and her father was one thing. Accepting money was quite another. Money would be a tie. Romy wasn’t ready for that.

  She had found a job. Only part-time for now, but it was a start. People in the village were friendly. They could live cheaply. She ought to be happy, Romy reminded herself. She had everything she needed.

  Except Lex.

  Time and again, Romy assured herself that she had made the right decision. She and Freya couldn’t have stayed in the apartment. They would have driven Lex mad. Much better to have made the break now, before either of them had a chance to be hurt.

  It didn’t feel better though. There was a dull ache inside her, all the time, like a weight pressing on her heart, and misery clogged her throat so that speaking was an effort and even swallowing hurt.

  In spite of the claustrophobically cluttered rooms in the cottage, it felt as if something was missing, and it took Romy a little time to accept that she was constantly looking round, hoping to see Lex. She wanted to see him peering over the top of his reading glasses or tugging at the knot of his tie. She wanted to see the stern mouth relaxing into a smile as he picked up Freya, or holding the tiny hands between his large ones as he helped her to play the piano.

  Always in the past Romy had been able to move on without a backward glance, but this time it was different. She missed London more than she thought she would. She had always liked wild, exotic places, but now she missed the buzz of work and the banter with her colleagues. She missed standing at Lex’s window and looking down at the great city spread out below.

  She missed Lex most of all.

  Freya missed him, too, Romy was sure. She couldn’t say so, but she was lacklustre and fretful. Romy knew exactly how she felt. For the first time in her life, she was lonely. Oh, Freya was there, and she could always pop round to see Jenny, but it wasn’t the same as living with Lex. There was no one to tell when Freya learnt another word, no one to laugh when she put her pants on her head. No one to say hello to in the morning. No one to make her heart leap at the sound of the key in the door.

  She wanted to tell him when Freya took her first step. She’d told her mother, she’d told Jenny, she’d even told Michael, but the person she really wanted to tell was Lex. She even picked up the phone and got as far as dialling his mobile before she cut the connection.

  What was the point of calling him?

  She would hear his voice and he would hear hers, but wouldn’t that just make it worse? And after Lex had said, ‘Great news,’ or whatever you said when a baby took their first step, what then? What would there be left to talk about? She and Lex couldn’t be friends-they were too close for that-but they couldn’t be lovers either. She should leave him to get on with his life, and get on with her own.

  But now the father Lex had tried so hard to please was dead, and Romy wished desperately that she could have been there for him when he needed her.

  Except Lex hadn’t wanted her there, she reminded herself. If he had, he would have phoned and told her himself, instead of letting her hear it from her mother. Perhaps, like her, he had decided that in the end it would just make it harder. So Romy didn’t ring him either, but wrote a short note that said everything that was proper about his father and nothing at all about what she really wanted to say.

  That Friday she left Freya with Michael, and made her way to Gloucestershire. The funeral was to be held in the village where Lex’s parents had lived for forty years. A car was beyond Romy’s budget, so it was a complicated journey involving buses, trains and taxis, and she only just made it to the church in time for the service.

  Her mother, so long a friend to Faith Gibson, was sitting behind the family. Romy slipped into the end of the pew, exchanging a glance of apology for her lateness with her mother.

  In front of her, Faith sat between her two sons. Summer was there, too
, sitting next to Phin. They were a family, and yet Lex looked alone. He was staring straight ahead. Something about the rigid set of his shoulders, the careful way he held his head, twisted Romy’s heart. He was suffering, and there was nothing she could do to help.

  The organ struck up, and the priest was moving to address the congregation. Romy saw Lex brace himself, and without giving herself time to think she got up and slid into the pew in front. He shouldn’t have to be on his own, not today.

  She caught Lex unawares. The vicar had already begun the service, so there was no chance to talk, but Romy saw the startled look in his eyes change to a fierce gladness, and when she took his hand his fingers closed around hers hard. He didn’t say anything and he didn’t look at her again, but he held her hand tightly all through the service, only letting her go when he got up to give the eulogy.

  After the service, Romy stepped back, still without a word, and let Lex take his mother to the graveside, while her own mother eyed her speculatively.

  ‘Is there something I should know?’ she asked after the burial was over and they were walking slowly to the Gibsons’ house behind the family. It was an inappropriately beautiful day, and the village was so small no one had thought to get in a car to drive the short distance from the church to the house.

  Romy flushed under her mother’s scrutiny. She had acted on impulse, and she was glad that she had, but to her mother it must have looked odd the way she had pushed into the family pew.

  ‘I didn’t want Lex to be on his own.’

  Incredibly, neither her mother nor Faith Gibson seemed to have heard anything about the time she and Freya had spent with Lex. Summer had certainly known that they were living together, which meant that Phin must have known too, but evidently he hadn’t passed the news on around the family. Romy wondered whether this was tact on his part, or if Lex had asked him not to say anything.

  As far as Romy’s mother knew, Lex was no more than a family friend to Romy. Someone you bumped into at weddings and funerals like this. She knew nothing about that crazy week in Paris all those years ago. She had no idea that Lex knew Freya or that he made her daughter’s heart turn over just by walking into the room.