Second Chance Under the Mistletoe, page 10
‘It was. But I can’t blame them for everything. Jon and I were at fault too.’
He cheated on me—with a girl in a red dress. It all came down to that. Other problems might have been solved. But not once she’d known about that. Of course she would never say that to Clem. She didn’t want her daughter to think badly of her birth father. He had tried his best to be an absentee father and she had thwarted him all the way—a fact she now felt bad about. He had always given financial support, even in those early years when it must have been a stretch.
Now, as she saw how much Clem liked him, Natalie’s guilt over her role in keeping them apart intensified. But it had seemed the right thing to do at the time. Clem had needed a stable father figure, and Hugo had been that and more. There had been no room for Jon in their lives.
‘But at least you’ve had that passionate, all-encompassing love, that mad attraction. I… I never had it with Tyler…’ Clem’s voice trailed away.
‘I know, sweet pea, I really do.’
Clem’s mouth turned downward. ‘I just hope…someone can really be okay with taking on another man’s child.’
‘What? Do you mean Leo? Has he said anything about that?’
Clem’s face clamped down. Natalie knew that evasive look. ‘I… I was talking hypothetically.’
Natalie frowned. ‘Are you sure about that?’
‘Very sure.’ Clem paused. ‘I know you didn’t have it with Hugo.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘That mad, passionate attraction. You loved Hugo, I know that. And you know I adored him. But you weren’t ever in love with him.’
‘Whatever would make you say that?’
‘Observation,’ said Clem smugly.
‘Well, you were wrong,’ said Natalie, knowing she was lying.
‘No, I wasn’t. But I’m not judging. Love is love. Sometimes you have to take what you can get and that’s good enough.’
When did her little girl get so thoughtful? And had she noticed the cracks in her marriage to Hugo? Natalie had thought she’d done a good job in plastering them over.
Clem continued. ‘But I do wonder why you let the real deal go with Dad. And I’m wondering if you could get it back together with him.’
‘Clem! What’s got into you tonight? Of course I’m not going to get back with Jon. After all these years.’ Not with a man who’d hurt her so badly.
‘You’ve already spent two days out with him. How did they go?’
Natalie pushed her plate away and got up from the table. ‘If you must know, they went really well. We got on famously. I like him. But we’re only spending time together to get to know each other again for your sake. It will be easier for you if your baby’s grandparents aren’t at loggerheads.’
‘You’re sure about that? That’s the only reason?’
‘Yes.’ She took a deep breath, walked from the table and back to face Clem. ‘The thing is, when you have a love like we had back then it really hurts when it crashes and burns. It leaves wounds—wounds that never really heal. I have no intention of picking at the scars that have grown over those wounds.’
‘Sorry, Mum, I didn’t realise.’
Natalie put her hands on Clem’s shoulders. ‘Of course you didn’t, sweet pea. It might seem all romantic hearts and flowers that two people who’d felt so strongly about each other when they were young, who’d had the most amazing child, might fall back into each other’s arms when they meet again twenty years later—one widowed, the other divorced. But that’s pure fantasy. It’s not going to happen. There’s a literal ocean between me in England and Jon in Australia. But there’s also an ocean of pain and loss. All is not going to be forgiven. It’s way too late for that.’
‘I… I didn’t realise, I’m so sorry, Mum,’ Clem said again.
Natalie sat down in her chair toface Clem. ‘Don’t be sorry, sweet pea. Because I think Jon and I might be able to salvage a friendship of sorts, united by our love for you and our joy in our grandbaby.’
‘Seriously?’
‘Yes.’
‘Are you going to see him again before Christmas Day?’
‘Guess what? He’s booked tickets for The Nutcracker for tomorrow night and that hot new musical for the night after.’
‘Really? That’s amazing. For one thing I’ve heard it’s impossible to get tickets to the musical.’
‘He got them.’
‘A very fat wallet can work wonders, I believe.’
Natalie laughed. ‘Perhaps.’
‘And another thing, I’m thrilled that he’s willing to go with you. Not like me and Hugo having to be dragged along, unwilling and protesting.’
Natalie laughed. ‘True.’
Clem smiled. ‘I’m glad you’re going to be friends with Dad. You’re right. It will make it easier for you to be co-grandparents. One day, perhaps, you’ll each have new partners and it will all be very civilised.’
Jon with a new partner? Natalie wasn’t sure that she liked that idea at all. She would find it difficult to see him with another woman. She never had. Just that girl in the red dress in the photo that had done so much to destroy their marriage. And the wounds from that still throbbed.
She forced her voice to sound normal. ‘Yes. That would indeed be civilised.’
‘You’ll be doing a lot of to-ing and fro-ing from London going to the theatre two nights in a row.’
‘Actually, Jon suggested I stay at his apartment. He has a guest bedroom.’
‘That’s a good idea.’
‘Of course, I said no.’
‘Why? It’s an awesome place and you could walk to everything.’
‘I… I wouldn’t feel comfortable about it.’
‘Why is that? I think you’d be safe with Dad. You’re just friends, right?’
‘Yes, but I—’
Clem got up from her chair. ‘I’d feel a lot happier if you stayed at Dad’s. Safer than coming home on a late train to a creepy car park and then an empty house.’
‘So now you’re looking after me, darling daughter.’
‘Hugo always did. I told you, I worry about you being alone in this house.’
‘I’m really okay on my own, sweet pea. But I love your concern for me.’
Clem gave her a somewhat cumbersome hug, her bump getting in the way. ‘Always, Mum, always.’
‘Thank you. That means a lot.’
‘So you’ll stay at Dad’s?’
‘What about Freddie?’
‘You know your neighbour will take him.’
‘You’re right. I’ll text Jon to see if the offer is still open,’ Natalie said.
‘I’m sure it will be,’ said Clem.
‘Now, before I drive you home to Kensington—’
‘No need to do that. I—’
Natalie put up her hand to ward off Clem’s protest. ‘Driving you home is not negotiable.’
‘You really don’t have to, Mum.’
‘But I want to, right?’
‘Right. You win.’
‘Before you go, I’d like you to pop into my studio and sit for me for just ten minutes.’
‘For my pregnant portrait?’
‘Yes. It’s nearly done but seeing you tonight makes me want to make that lovely bump of yours a little more prominent. I think this is the perfect moment of your journey to motherhood to capture in oils. I’m really pleased with how the portrait is coming along and I think you will be too.’
‘Then you’ll text Dad to confirm you’ll stay in his apartment?’
‘I promise I’ll do that,’ Natalie said.
CHAPTER TEN
The previous night, Natalie had won the battle to drop her pregnant daughter safely back home to the Kensington town house. But she’d lost the battle with Jon when he wanted to drive down and pick her up from Guildford and take her back to his apartment.
He had totally overridden her protests. ‘I’m just being practical,’ he’d said. ‘So you drive yourself to Waterloo in your car and get slammed by exorbitant London parking charges, not to mention congestion charges. You take the train, and you’ll have to leave your car in the station car park for several days. Just let me pick you up. I enjoy the drive.’
Natalie had agreed without too much protest. It was nice to be driven and what Jon had said made sense.
Jon picked her up early the following afternoon. He took her overnight bag and stashed it in his boot. She handed him a large stiff folder tucked into a padded shopping bag.
His brow furrowed. ‘What’s this?’
‘I’ll show you later,’ she said with a smile. ‘Please make sure it doesn’t get squashed.’
He carefully placed the folder in the boot alongside her case. ‘I’m curious. It doesn’t seem like something to eat.’
‘It’s definitely not edible.’
‘Then what—?’
‘You’ll have to wait and see.’
The contents of that folder were far too precious to be playing guessing games over. She’d show it to him later, when they were back at his apartment.
On the way to Waterloo, they chatted about what they’d seen at the palace the day before and about Clem’s decision to stay on at work for a few more weeks. As they spoke, Natalie realised how much Jon cared for his daughter and she sank into her guilt about her active role in keeping him from Clem. It had been a tit-for-tat situation when she’d still been consumed by anger and grief and post-partum depression—you cheat on me and break my heart, I keep you from your daughter. She wouldn’t be that mean now, after realising that a child couldn’t be too loved.
She was so lost in her thoughts, she only realised Jon had driven into an underground car park as they were heading down a ramp.
‘I rent a secure car space here. My apartment block is just around the corner,’ he explained.
Natalie could only imagine what that car space would cost in central London. Jon told her he kept his car there, so it would be ready any time he decided to come to London. ‘Perhaps Clem could use the car sometimes if she needs it,’ he said.
‘That’s very kind of you.’
‘She’s my daughter,’ he said, as if that were explanation enough for his generosity which, she supposed, it was.
Once they were in Jon’s apartment, Natalie followed Jon up the open staircase that led to the mezzanine level and into his guest room. Like the rest of his apartment, it was worthy of a feature in a high-end interiors magazine, minimalist yet obviously designed for comfort. There was also a beautifully appointed en suite bathroom, complete with steam shower. Jon put her overnight bag on the floor next to the bed.
‘Show me where the sheets are, and I can make up the bed,’ she said.
‘Already done,’ he said. ‘I called in the team from the housekeeping service company I use. They came this morning. Your bed is made, there are fresh towels in the bathroom, toiletries have been refreshed. The fridge has been stocked with a few essentials.’
‘Like a hotel,’ Natalie said, bemused at his efficiency.
This was a far cry from his shoebox-sized bedroom in the shared student house in Durham where they’d had to put a chair up against the door to ensure privacy.
She followed him back down the stairs. If Clem ever brought the baby here, Jon would have to fit stair gates, that was for sure.
‘Do you want your folder in your room too?’
She shook her head. ‘I’ll keep it with me,’ she said.
‘Still not a hint as to what’s in there?’ he teased.
‘Not a one,’ she responded with a smile. ‘Shall we have tea?’
‘There are various teas in the pantry, choose whichever you like.’
Natalie made the tea and took it over to the coffee table. She put some of the Christmas shortbread Jon had bought at Borough Market on a plate and took that too.
They sat side by side on the leather sofa and had their tea in companionable silence. After she had finished her cup of tea, Natalie got up to retrieve the folder from where she’d left it on the dining table and brought it over to where Jon sat.
‘The secret is about to be revealed at last?’ he said, raising a curious eyebrow.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I want to talk to you about this.’ She took the folder from the shopping bag that had protected it. ‘I’m sure Clem mentioned that we will exchange gifts on Christmas Day at her place.’
‘She did.’
‘Of course I want to have a gift for you.’
He protested. ‘You don’t need to—’
‘I do,’ she said firmly. ‘I didn’t see anything I thought you’d like while we were out shopping. Then I had an idea.’ She patted the seat of the sofa. ‘Here, sit closer to me so I can show you. If you like this gift, I’ll wrap it to give it to you on Christmas Day.’
‘I’m really curious now,’ he said as he scooted closer to her on the sofa.
Natalie placed the folder on her lap where he could easily see it. She lifted out a pile of paintings on heavy quality cartridge paper, separated by sheets of tissue paper. She lifted up the first to show him—a watercolour of a delightfully chubby baby with a wisp of auburn hair, looking up out of the picture with wide green eyes and a sweet baby smile.
‘It’s Clem,’ said Jon, peering closely at it. ‘It’s baby Clementine. Wow. Did you paint this?’
‘Yes.’
He continued to stare at the painting in awe. Natalie found she was twisting her hands together, in anticipation of his reaction.
Finally he took his eyes off the painting. ‘It’s incredible. Such a likeness. And her personality shines through. How old is she here?’
‘Six months. I did it after you left for Australia and when I was still living with my parents. Do you like it?’
‘I love it.’ He slowly shook his head. ‘You’re so talented. I can’t believe how you’ve captured the likeness.’
Natalie couldn’t help but be pleased at his reaction. ‘There are more.’ She indicated the stack of other paintings beneath. ‘Since then, I’ve done so many paintings and sketches of our daughter at different ages, right up until now. I’m working on an oil of her pregnant, with her hands on her belly. She’s dreamy as she looks both inward and forward to when she meets her baby.’
‘That would be beautiful,’ he said, his voice husky. ‘I’d like to see it when it’s finished.’
‘I was learning and, I hope, improving, so did multiple attempts at capturing the same poses. Not that Clem had the patience to stay still and pose for long. I took photos as well to work with. I was a stay-at-home mum for Clem’s first years, that’s when I started.’
‘Can I see the others?’ he said, indicating the stack.
‘Of course. You asked me to fill you in on more stories of Clem. I went through and picked out some of my favourites that I’ve done. There are ten paintings here, mainly watercolours. They’re slightly different from the ones I’ve kept.’
‘For me? These are for me? To keep?’
‘You might want to look at them first, before you say you want to keep them. Go on, unwrap them from the tissue paper.’
She’d stacked the paintings in chronological order. Jon exclaimed over paintings of adorable toddler Clem, through to seven-year-old Clem grinning with no front teeth and freckles scattered over her nose, and then to teenage Clem with her stance slightly rebellious, graduate Clem in her university gown laughing and tossing her mortar board in the air, and finally to Clem hugging Freddie, ecstatic to have a dog in the family at last.
‘These are…incredible, perfect, priceless,’ he exclaimed. ‘You have such a gift. Are you sure you want to give them to me?’
‘I have so many others. Believe me. And who better to give them to than you, her other parent?’
‘I don’t know what to say. Except thank you.’
‘So, this is an acceptable present to give you on Christmas Day?’
‘I couldn’t think of anything I’d like more,’ he said frankly.
A little of her guilt felt assuaged by his reaction. Not that a series of paintings could make up for all those missed visits to a real-life daughter. But he’d chosen to stay in Australia, so the estrangement from his daughter wasn’t all on Natalie.
‘I’ll buy a rigid artist portfolio to transport them, as you’ll be travelling home to Australia with them.’
When would he be going? Straight after Christmas? The thought of not being able to see him was unbearable.
‘I hope my gift helps make up for those years you missed out on with Clem,’ she said.
‘Nothing can make up for those lost years,’ he said, his eyes sad. ‘But this will help in some way.’
‘I’m glad,’ she said, choking up.
Jon turned to her directly. He searched her face for what seemed an age but must only have been seconds. She could see the shadows of over twenty years of pain in his eyes. ‘Nothing can ever make up for all the years I lost with you, either.’
Her heart started to hammer so fast he surely must hear it. Her mouth went dry and she couldn’t have stuttered out an answer even if she wanted to. Because she couldn’t think of a word to say in reply.
Finally, she managed. ‘I know.’
‘Do you ever wonder how it unravelled so quickly for us?’ he said. ‘Why we didn’t fight harder for what we had? Because what we had was special—I’ve never found it again. Do you ever think about it?’
Her voice came out as a whisper, broken and uneven. ‘I’ve thought of nothing else since we’ve been seeing each other.’
Natalie turned her head away but Jon reached out with a hand on her cheek and gently turned her around so she again faced him. She reached up and placed her hand over his on her cheek. For a very long moment they looked into each other’s eyes. Jon, not Jay Jay. She took a deep breath and let it out on a sigh of surrender. She couldn’t fight her attraction to him any longer.
She reached out for him at the same time he reached for her, so they were seamlessly wrapped in each other’s arms. She shifted in her seat to press closer to him, closed her eyes to better savour the sensation of his body next to hers. He was still the same but more muscular, more powerful. She breathed in the scent of him, that same spicy soap he’d used so long ago that unleashed a stream of memories. The thought ran persistently through her mind: Back where I belong.
