Barefoot Bride Read online

  ‘No, it’s OK. People are going to have to know, and obviously it’s difficult to explain in front of Lily.’ Will sighed. ‘That’s why I couldn’t tell Beth when we met her in the supermarket. Lily is finding it hard enough to adjust without hearing the whole story talked over with perfect strangers.’

  ‘I can imagine.’

  ‘Lily used to go to the after-school club, and Nikki would pick her up after work. But that day there had apparently been some meeting that had run on, so she was going to be very late at the school. They’d warned her before about being late, so she was rushing to get there, and I suppose she wasn’t driving as carefully as she should…’

  ‘A car accident?’ said Alice when he trailed off with a sigh.

  ‘She was killed instantly, they said.’ Will nodded, and Alice wondered just how much his ex-wife still meant to him. You could say that the marriage had been a mistake, but they had had a child together. He must have had some feelings still for Lily’s mother.

  ‘Meanwhile, Lily is still waiting for her mother to come and pick her up?’ she said gently.

  Will shot her a curious look, as if surprised by her understanding. ‘I think she must be. She hasn’t talked about it, and she’s such a quiet little girl anyway, it’s hard to know how much she understands.’

  He looked so tired suddenly that Alice felt guilty for being so brittle and defensive earlier. ‘It must have been a shock for you, too,’ she said after a moment.

  Will shrugged his own feelings aside. ‘I was in Honduras when I heard. It took them some time to track me down, so I missed the immediate aftermath. I wasn’t there for Lily,’ he added, and, from the undercurrent of bitterness in his voice, Alice guessed he flayed himself with that knowledge.

  ‘You weren’t to know,’ she said in a deliberately practical voice. ‘What happened to Lily?’

  ‘Nikki’s parents live nearby so the school called them when she didn’t turn up, and they looked after Lily until I got there. My work’s kept me overseas for the last few years, though, and I haven’t had the chance to see her very often, so I’m virtually a stranger to her.’ Will ran his fingers through his hair in a gesture of defeat. ‘To be honest, it’s all been a bit…difficult.’

  Difficult? Alice thought about his small daughter. Lily was six, he had said. What would it be like to have the centre of your world disappear without warning, and to be handed over instead to a father you hardly knew? Alice’s heart was wrung. Her own parents had been dippy and unreliable in lots of ways, but at least they had always been there.

  ‘When did all this happen?’ she asked.

  ‘Seven weeks ago.’

  ‘Seven weeks? Is that all?’ Alice looked at Will incredulously, her sympathy evaporating. ‘What are you doing out here?’

  Will narrowed his eyes at her tone. ‘My job,’ he said in a hard voice. ‘I’ve already delayed the project by over a month.’

  ‘You shouldn’t be thinking about your job,’ said Alice with a withering look. ‘You should be thinking about your daughter!’

  ‘I am thinking about her.’ Will set his teeth and told himself he wasn’t going to let Alice rile him. ‘I’m hoping that the change of scene will help her.’

  He couldn’t have said anything more calculated to catch Alice on the raw. His casual assumption that a change of scene could only be good for a child reminded her all too painfully of the way her own parents had blithely uprooted her just when she had settled down in a new country and started to feel at home.

  ‘We’re off to Guyana,’ they had announced gaily. ‘You’ll love it!’

  After Guyana, they had spent a year on a croft in the Hebrides. ‘It’ll be good for you,’ her father had decided. Then it had been Sri Lanka-‘Won’t it be exciting?’-followed by Morocco, Indonesia, Exmoor (a disaster) and Goa, although Alice had lost track of the order they had come in.

  ‘You’re so lucky,’ everyone had told her when she had been growing up. ‘You’ve seen so much of the world and had such wonderful experiences.’

  But Alice hadn’t felt lucky. She hadn’t wanted any more new experiences. She had longed to settle down and feel at home, instead of being continually overwhelmed by strange new sights and sounds, smells and people.

  And she hadn’t had the loss of a mother to deal with at the same time. Alice’s heart went out to Will’s daughter.

  Poor Lily. Poor little girl.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘YOU don’t think it would have helped her more to stay in familiar surroundings?’ Alice asked Will sharply, too irritated by his apparent disregard for his daughter to think about the fact that it was probably none of her business.

  A muscle was twitching in Will’s jaw. ‘Her grandparents offered to look after her,’ he admitted. ‘But they’re getting on. Besides, we all thought that it would be easier for Lily to start a new life without continual painful reminders of her mother. She’s going to have to get used to living with me some time, so it’s better that she does that sooner rather than later.’

  His careful arguments were just making Alice crosser. ‘Why couldn’t you get used to doing a job that meant you could stay where Lily would feel at home?’ she demanded.

  ‘There’s not a lot of work for marine ecologists in London!’

  ‘You could change your job.’

  ‘And do what?’ asked Will, stung by her tone, and annoyed with letting himself be drawn into an argument with Alice, who was typically holding forth on a subject she knew little about.

  Her brittleness had vanished, and she was vivid once more, her cheeks flushed and her tawny eyes flashing as she waved her arms around to prove her point. Suddenly, she was the Alice he remembered, and Will was simultaneously delighted and exasperated.

  It was an uncannily familiar feeling, he thought, not knowing whether he wanted to shake her or catch her into his arms. The rush of joy he felt at realising that the real Alice was still there was tempered by resentment of her unerring ability to home in on the very issue he felt most guilty about. He wouldn’t have minded if they’d been arguing about something unimportant, but this was his daughter they were discussing. Will was desperate to be a good father, and he didn’t need Alice pointing out exactly where he was going wrong five minutes after meeting him again.

  ‘Marine ecology is all I know,’ he tried to explain. ‘I have to support my child financially as well as emotionally, and the best way I can do that is by sticking with the career that I know rather than launching wildly into some new one where I’d have to start at the beginning. Besides,’ he went on as Alice looked profoundly unconvinced. ‘Lily isn’t my only responsibility. This project has taken five years to set up, and a lot of futures depend on it being successful. Of course Lily is important, but I’ve got responsibilities to other people as well. That’s just the way things are, and Lily’s going to have to get used to it.’

  ‘That’s an incredibly selfish attitude,’ said Alice, twirling her hand dramatically so that she could poke her finger towards Will’s chest. ‘It’s all about what suits you, isn’t it? All about what you need. What about what Lily needs?’

  ‘I’m her father,’ said Will tersely. ‘Lily needs to be with me.’

  ‘I’d agree with you, if being with you meant staying in a home she knew, with her grandparents and her friends and her routines.’

  Alice knew that it wasn’t really her business, but Will’s complacency infuriated her. ‘Losing a mother would be hard enough for her to deal with even if she had those things to hang on to, but you’ve dragged her across the world to a strange country, a place where she doesn’t know anyone or anything, and by your own admission she doesn’t even know you very well!’

  She drew an impatient breath. ‘Did you ever think of asking Lily what she wanted to do?’

  ‘Lily’s six.’ Will bit out the words, too angry by now to care whether Alice knew how effectively she was winding him up. ‘She’s not old enough to make an informed decision about anything, l
et alone where she wants to live. She’s just a little girl. How can she possibly judge what’s best for her?’

  ‘She’s old enough to know where she feels comfortable and who she feels safe with,’ Alice retorted.

  Will gritted his teeth. Her comments were like a dentist drilling on a raw nerve. Did she really think he didn’t feel guilty enough already about Lily? He hated the fact that he was practically a stranger to his own daughter. He hated the fact that Lily was lost and unhappy and he seemed powerless to help her. He was doing the best that he could, and, yes, maybe it wasn’t good enough, but he didn’t need Alice to point that out.

  That brief surge of joy he had felt at her transformation from a brittle nonentity into the vibrant, fiery creature he remembered was submerged beneath a wave of resentment, and he eyed her with dislike.

  ‘I thought you’d changed, Alice,’ he said. ‘But you haven’t, have you?’

  She tilted her chin at him in a characteristically combative gesture. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You still hold forth about subjects you know absolutely nothing about,’ he said cuttingly. ‘You know nothing about my daughter, nothing about the situation and nothing about me, now, but that doesn’t stop you, does it?’

  He gave a harsh laugh. ‘You know, I used to think it was quite amusing the way you used to base your opinions on nothing more than instinct and emotion. For someone so obsessed with fitting things into neat categories, it always seemed odd that you refused to look at the evidence before you made up your mind. But I don’t think it’s very funny anymore,’ he went on. ‘It’s pointless and narrow-minded. Perhaps, just once, you should try finding out the facts before you open your mouth and start spouting your personal prejudice!’

  There was a stricken look in Alice’s golden eyes but Will swept on, too angry to let himself notice and feel bad about it.

  He was fed up. It had been a hellish seven weeks. He was worried sick about his daughter, and he had a daunting task ahead to get a complex but incredibly important project off the ground. The last thing he needed was the inevitable turmoil of dealing with Alice.

  This was typical of her. Time and again over the last eight years, Will had told himself that he was over her. That he was getting on with his life. That he wouldn’t want her even if he did meet her again. And then he would catch a glimpse of a straight back through a crowd, or hear a dirty laugh at a party, and his heart would jerk, and he would feel sick with disappointment to realise that it wasn’t Alice after all.

  And now-now when he had so much else to deal with-here she was, with characteristically perverse timing, threatening to turn his world upside down just when he least needed it!

  Well, this time it wasn’t going to turn upside down, Will determined. He had wasted the last ten years of his life getting over Alice, and he wasn’t going to waste another ten minutes. It was just as well that they had come face to face, he decided. It had reminded him of all the things about her that had used to irritate him, and that made it so much easier to walk away this time.

  ‘You know, I could stand here and pontificate to you if I could be bothered,’ he told Alice, his words like a lash. ‘I could tell you that you’ve thrown away everything that was warm and special about you, and turned yourself into someone brittle and superficial with dull earrings and silly shoes, but I won’t because, unlike you, I don’t believe in passing judgement on people I’ve only met for five minutes!’

  Alice only just prevented herself from flinching at his tone. She had no intention of showing Will how hard his words had struck home. She managed an artificial laugh instead, knowing that she sounded just as brittle as he had accused her of being.

  ‘You’ve got a short memory, if you think we’ve only known each other for five minutes!’

  ‘You’re not the Alice I knew,’ said Will in the same, hard voice. ‘I liked her. I don’t like you. But that doesn’t give me the right to tell you how to live your life, so don’t tell me how to live mine. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and find the daughter you seem to think I care so little about before you accuse me of neglect.’

  And, with that, he turned and headed down the steps towards the pool, leaving Alice alone on the decking, white with fury mixed with a sickening sense of guilt. She shouldn’t have said all that about his daughter. Will was right, she didn’t know the situation, and she had probably been unfair. She had let the bottled-up resentment about her own childhood get the better of her. She should apologise.

  But not yet.

  I don’t like you. Will’s bitter words jangled in the air as if he had shouted them out loud. Alice felt ridiculously conspicuous, sure that everyone had heard and everyone was looking at her. They were probably all thinking that they didn’t like her either, she thought miserably

  Her throat was tight with tears that she refused to shed. She hadn’t let anyone see her cry about Tony, so she certainly wasn’t about to start blubbing over Will. She didn’t care if he didn’t like her. She didn’t care what he thought. She didn’t care about anything.

  ‘You haven’t got a drink, Alice.’ Roger materialised beside her. ‘Is everything OK?’

  Roger. Alice nearly did cry then. Dear Roger, her dearest friend. The only one she could rely on through thick and thin.

  She blinked fiercely. ‘You like me, don’t you, Roger?’

  ‘Oh, you’re all right, I suppose,’ said Roger with mock nonchalance, but he put his arms round her and hugged her close. ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked in a different tone.

  ‘Nothing,’ said Alice, muffled against his chest.

  ‘Come on, it’s just me. Was it seeing Will again?’

  Alice drew a shuddering breath. ‘He’s changed,’ she muttered.

  ‘We’ve all changed,’ said Roger gently.

  ‘You haven’t.’ She lifted her head and looked up into his dear, familiar face. She had met Roger on her first day at university, and they had been best friends ever since. For Alice, he was the brother she had never had, and not Beth, not even Will, had come between them. ‘That’s why I love you,’ she said with a wobbly smile.

  Roger pretended to look alarmed. ‘An open declaration of affection! This isn’t like you, Alice. You are upset!’

  ‘Only because Will was rude about my shoes,’ said Alice, tilting her chin. ‘They’re not silly, are they, Roger?’

  Straight-faced, Roger studied the delicate sandals, decorated with sequins and blue butterflies. ‘They’re fabulous,’ he told her. ‘Just like you. Now, come and have another drink before we both get maudlin and I tell you I love you too!’

  ‘All right.’ Alice took a deep breath and steadied her smile. ‘But only if you introduce me to all these single men Beth promised me,’ she said, determined to put Will Paxman right out of her mind. ‘And not that guy in the awful shirt with the perspiration problem,’ she added, following Roger into the kitchen.

  ‘Colin,’ said Roger, nodding knowledgeably as he handed her another glass of punch. ‘No, we’ll see if we can do better for you than that!’

  He was as good as his word, and Alice soon found herself the centre of a circle of admiring men, all much more attractive and entertaining than the hapless Colin. Alice was under no illusions about her own looks, but she appreciated that, living in a small expatriate community with a limited social life, these men would be interested in any single, available female, and she did her best to sparkle and live up to the reputation Beth had evidently created for her. But it was hard when all the time she was aware of Will’s dark, glowering presence over by the pool.

  Alice turned her back pointedly, but it didn’t make much difference. She could practically feel his cold grey eyes boring into her spine, and the thought made her shiver slightly and take a gulp of her punch.

  Why was he bothering to watch her, anyway? There were no shortage of women simpering up at him by the pool, all of them wearing shoes and lipstick and apparently indulging in small talk. Alice was prepared to concede th
at she might be wrong, but none of them gave the impression of being intellectual giants. How come Will didn’t find them prickly and false?

  Defiantly, Alice emptied her glass and let someone whose name she had already forgotten rush off to get her a refill. If Will thought her brittle and superficial, superficial and brittle she would be!

  Flirting was not something that came naturally to her but it was amazing what she could do when glacial grey eyes were watching her with open disapproval. What right had Will Paxman to disapprove of her, anyway? She was just being sociable, which was more than he was doing, and she was damned if she was going to skulk away to the kitchen just because he didn’t like her.

  So she smiled and laughed and made great play with her eyelashes while she shifted her weight surreptitiously from foot to foot to try and relieve the pressure from her shoes, which might look fabulous but which were, in truth, becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Not that Alice would ever have admitted as much to Will.

  The tropical sun combined with Roger’s punch was giving her a thumping headache, and Alice’s bright smile grew more and more fixed as she concentrated on being fun and ignoring Will. Still, she was doing all right until someone mentioned honeymoons and suddenly she remembered that today was Tony’s wedding day.

  All at once Alice’s bottled-up misery burst through its dam and hit her with such force that she only just managed to stop herself doubling over as if from a blow. The pain and anger and humiliation she had felt when Tony had left her for Sandi was mixed up now with a nauseating concoction of shock, regret, guilt and hurt at Will’s reaction to meeting her again after all this time.

  Not to mention an excess of Roger’s punch.

  Unable to keep up the façade any longer, Alice murmured an excuse about finding a hat and headed blindly for the house. At least there it would be cool.

  And full of people. She hesitated at the bottom of the steps leading up to the decking. The large, airy living area would be packed with people enjoying the air conditioning and someone would be bound to see her sneak off to her room. The next thing Beth would be there, knocking on the door, wanting to know what was wrong.