Chapter Eleven
XANDER STOOD BY the edge of the pool at his father’s house.
If Dan were here he’d be straight into that water, splashing away happily.
For an instant Xander could see him there.
But Dan was two thousand miles away in England.
A wave of missing him went through Xander. Video calls were just not the same.
Dan had said as much to him. Asking him when he was coming back. He’d sounded plaintive, and it had wrung Xander’s heart. He wanted to get on to a plane and rush straight there. But how could he? He’d only arrived in Greece three days ago.
He’d left the UK the day after their Easter. He hadn’t intended to leave that soon, wanting to spend the Easter Monday holiday with Dan.
And with Laurel.
With them both.
But Laurel had wanted him to leave. Made it clear she wanted him gone. Crystal clear.
She had refused, point blank, to say any more to him.
She’d got up from the table, gone indoors into the sitting room and sat down on the sofa, taking her cooling tea with her.
Xander had followed her with his equally cooling mug of coffee.
Dan had beamed at them, offered them some of his Easter egg. Xander had taken some; Laurel had not.
“It won’t make you fat, Mum!” Dan had teased.
Xander’s eyes had gone to her, sitting opposite him on her own sofa, while he sat on his. Remembering, with burning vividness, just how very perfect her body was, how wonderful making love to her had been.
He was remembering it again now. Remembering everything about that night and the day that came after. The day when he’d screwed up completely.
I thought I’d found the perfect way forward for us. Putting the bad part of the past aside, taking the good forward.
It still seemed so right.
It’s the perfect solution, the perfect answer! Dan is part of my life forever, and why should Laurel not be too? Marriage solves everything, provides for everything!
But she’d said no.
Heavily, with face grim, he stared blankly over the gardens, the sun slipping lower and dusk gathering, the endless cicadas striking up, it seemed, even more loudly with their incessant chorus.
She said no because she would never marry me for what I did to her. Because I think her a thief.
His expression set. That accusation he’d first made seven long years ago, had gone on saying, lay between them like the blade of a sword. The blade that he’d used, seven long years ago, to sever her from him.
Because it was the only weapon I had.
He frowned. What did that mean? It hung there, making no sense. Why should he have needed a weapon? What for?
The sound of his name being called from the terrace made him turn.
His father was beckoning him, and Xander made his way back indoors.
He glanced at his father’s face as his manservant poured their usual aperitifs.
His father’s mood was good. He was glad that Xander was back in Greece.
He’d asked no questions about what had been keeping him returning to England, and Xander suspected his father was hoping it was because he was dating again.
His mouth compressed as he accepted the martini being handed to him.
He was going to have to tell his father the truth about why he was spending so much time in England.
But how could he when his own mind was in such tumult?
The words that had come to him out by the pool circled again, still making no sense.
It was the only weapon I had.
And then, as they circled, meaning came to him, explaining everything. Why he’d needed a weapon, and what he’d used it for.
My accusation of her was the only weapon I had so I could make the choice I made.
He stilled, feeling cold wash through him. Realisation.
The choice, he faced it now, expression drawn and sombre, forcing himself to face it, as he stood in his father’s house, the father who had longed for him to marry—the choice that he should never have made.
That had ruined his life.
Laurel was out in the garden kicking a football around with Dan in the last of the daylight. But Dan was not enthusiastic, she could see.
“I’m not as good as your dad, I know,” she said apologetically.
“It’s okay, Mum,” he said. He dribbled the ball past her and back again, then stopped and turned to her.
“When is Dad coming home?” he asked. “I miss him.”
“Not till Greek Easter is over,” she said. “He explained that to you. He’s gone back to Greece to see his family.”
Dan looked at her. “Aren’t we his family?”
Laurel felt her throat tighten. “He has family in Greece as well. His father for a start. Probably lots of cousins. I…I don’t really know.”
It wasn’t something Xander had ever talked about, way back on his yacht, except that he’d mentioned his father and that his mother had died when he was at university.
It was something they had in common. Understanding each other’s loss.
A rare moment when reality had made its presence felt in their headlong, lotus-eating idyll.
Until reality had slammed in big time. Olympia coming on board, wanting a ride back to Athens. Making it very clear just who she was to Xander.
Unlike me.
She pulled her thoughts away. Her pointless, futile thoughts. In the four days since Xander had taken himself off at the end of Easter Sunday it had been impossible not to let those thoughts in. Playing and replaying what Xander had said to her that day.
He wants to marry me.
The “perfect solution,” he’d called it.
The perfect poison.
Because that’s what it would be, she knew. Marrying Xander. Poison that tasted so sweet yet killed all the same in the end…
Wearily, she shut her eyes. Had he really thought she would agree to drink that sweet poison, killing her slowly, day after day.
Night after night in his arms.
Wanting him so much, yet knowing that what had parted them seven years ago was still there between them.
Keeping them apart, dividing them still. That always would.
“Mum—”
Dan’s voice made her open her eyes. He was holding his football but not looking at her. He was staring at the back of the garage, the pathway that led between it and the wall of the cottage beyond the patio, his expression alert. The sound of tires on gravel, the low note of an engine.
Then he was running, dropping the football, racing across the patio and onto the pathway.
“It’s Dad! Mum, it’s Dad! It’s his car! It’s Dad!”
Behind him, Laurel froze. No, it couldn’t be Xander. He was in Greece, away till after the Orthodox Easter. Taking himself off early because she’d wanted him gone, because what he’d said to her, asked of her, was impossible.
I won’t drink that poison. I won’t. I dare not.
Beyond the garage she heard Dan’s voice exclaim excitedly, “Dad!”
Xander’s deep voice answering, Dan saying they were in the garden, the two of them appearing down the pathway, walking towards her, Dan clutching his father’s hand, his little face beaming.
“Dad’s home!” he cried, happiness radiating from him.
She went on standing there, frozen. But inside her a tumult.
Xander paused. His presence leaping at her, eyes going to her.
“You’re supposed to be in Greece,” she said. Her voice sounded hollow.
“I couldn’t stay,” he answered.
Xander shut the book he’d just finished reading to Dan and put it on his bedside table. He was propped on Dan’s bed, one arm around him. It was so good to feel Dan’s strong little body snuggled against him.
“I’m glad you’re back, Dad,” Dan said sleepily. “I missed you.”
Xander dropped a kiss on his dark head. “I missed you too,” he said.
Though it was not just his son he’d missed.
With Dan abed, the evening loomed ahead. The most important evening of his life. Heeached across for Mr. Teds and tucked him in beside his son as he eased himself to his feet.
“Where’s Mum?” Dan asked, still sleepy.
“I’ll call her,” Xander said. He crossed to the door, went out on to the landing.
“Dan’s ready for lights out,” he called down, then went back into his son’s bedroom.
Dan was yawning, hunkering down in the bedclothes, Mr. Teds beside him, and Xander settled the duvet over them both.
He turned the bedside lamp off and the night light on, throwing a dim glow over the room.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and then Laurel was coming into the room.
“Night night, Mum,” Dan said drowsily. Xander watched her come up to Dan’s bed, lean down and kiss his cheek tenderly.
“Night night, darling,” she said. Xander could hear the love in her voice. Emotion speared within him. He came up beside her. “Night night, son,” he said. He laid the palm of his hand gently on Dan’s head.
Dan’s eyelids were shutting, his breath slowing.
Xander felt Laurel move slightly away from him. As Dan eased into sleep, Xander spoke, his voice low, intent.
“Our son needs us both, Laurel, needs us as family.”
But it’s up to me to show her how. Now that I finally understand.
He stepped away, waiting by the door. For a moment longer Laurel just went on standing there, looking down at their sleeping son in the dim light. Then she moved quietly away, walking past Xander. She made no answer, but he followed her downstairs.
All evening she’d barely spoken to him. Dan, blessedly, hadn’t noticed; he’d just been delighted Xander was back, and Xander had focussed on Dan as well.
They’d played football till the light went, then headed up to Dan’s room, then been called down to tea.
Laurel had only cooked for Dan—fish fingers and a microwaved baked potato with tomatoes and broccoli.
Xander had made no comment about the obvious lack of food for Laurel and himself.
After tea had come TV, an adventure serial Xander had shared with Dan, Laurel disappearing into the kitchen, doing God knows what.
Avoiding him mainly, he supposed. He’d taken Dan up for his bath, and Laurel had still said nothing, so he’d let her be.
But now Dan was asleep.