afford to chuck them out!’
‘You darned them.’ He looked at her darkly. He could remember her doing it as if it had been yesterday, swatting mosquitoes and moths away while outside a dull rumble of thunder had heralded heavy rain. She had looked like a girl in a painting, with her hair tumbling around her face as she frowned in concentration.
Sarah bit back the temptation to tell him what an idiot she had been, doing stuff like that, worshipping the ground he walked on, eager to do whatever he wanted.
‘And I haven’t forgotten my past,’ he said grimly. ‘It’s always there at the back of my mind, like a stuck record.’
Her heart softened, but she held her ground with grim determination.
‘I may not have planned for this, but I want you to know that things are going to change now. This place is barely fit for habitation!’ He caught the warning look in her eyes and offered her a crooked smile. ‘Okay. Bit of an exaggeration. But you get where I’m going. Whether you think I’ve become a monstrous snob or not, I can afford to take you away from here—and that’s got to be my number one priority.’
‘Your number one priority is getting to know Oliver.’
‘I would prefer to get to know him in surroundings that won’t challenge me every time I walk through the front door.’
Sarah sighed. It would certainly make life easier not having to worry so much about money. ‘Okay. I take back some of the things I said. You haven’t completely changed. You still think that you can get your own way all the time.’
‘I know. It more than compensates for your indecision. Now, you could put up a brief struggle to hold on to your independence, maybe give me a little lecture on things being just perfect here, with your quaint, outdated kitchen furniture and the walls in need of plasterwork, but we both know that you can see my point of view. I can afford to take you out of this, and I consider it my duty to do so.’
The word duty lodged in her head like a burr, and she looked down at her anxiously clasped fingers. There was nothing like honesty to really hurt.
‘What do you suggest?’ she asked. ‘Do I have any input here? Or are you going to just walk all over me because you have lots of money and I have none?’
‘I’m going to walk all over you because I have lots of money and you have none.’
‘Not funny,’ Sarah muttered, remembering his talent for defusing a situation with his sense of humour. Given the conditions years ago, when they had been cooped up on the compound, tempers had occasionally run high and this talent of his had been invaluable. Was he using it now just to get his own way? And did that matter anyway? The prospect of no longer having a daily struggle on her hands was like being offered manna from heaven.
‘I intend to take my responsibilities very seriously, Sarah. I think you should know that. It would be very time-consuming to travel out here every time I wanted to see Oliver. Somewhere closer to where I live would be a solution.’
Now that they were discussing things in a more businesslike manner Sarah could actually focus on what was being said—as opposed to fighting to maintain her equilibrium, which showed threatening signs of wanting to fall apart.
‘I feel as though I’m suddenly on a rollercoaster ride,’ she confessed.
‘Spare a thought for me. Whatever rollercoaster ride you’re on, mine is bigger, faster, and I’m a hell of a lot less prepared for it than you are.’
And yet he was rising to the occasion. It didn’t matter that the only reason they were now even having this conversation was because she had become a responsibility he couldn’t shirk. He had taken it all in his stride in his usual authoritative way. That there was no emotion involved was something she would have to deal with. It wasn’t his problem, and she wasn’t going to let that get in the way of the relationship he had to build with his son.
‘So we move to another place … There are still all sorts of other things that need sorting out. I’ll have to try and explain to Oliver that he has a … a father. He’s only young, though. I should warn you that it might not be that easy.’
‘He’s four,’ Raoul pointed out with impeccable logic. ‘He hasn’t had time to build up any kind of picture for or against me.’
‘Yes, but—’
‘Let’s not anticipate problems, Sarah.’
Now that he had surmounted the sudden bout of intense nervousness that had gripped him in the bedroom, Raoul was confident he would be able to get Oliver onside. Having had a life of grinding poverty, replete with secondhand clothes and secondhand books and secondhand toys, and frankly secondhand affection, he was beginning to look forward to giving his son everything that he himself had lacked in his childhood.
‘We take things one at a time. First the house. Secondly, I suggest you try and explain my role to Oliver. Has he … has he ever asked about his father?’
‘In passing,’ Sarah admitted. ‘When he’s been to a birthday party and seen the other kids with their dads. Once when I was reading him a story.’
Raoul’s lips thinned but he didn’t say anything. ‘You will obviously have to tell your parents that you are moving, and why. Will you tell them I’m on the scene? What my position is?’
‘Maybe we shouldn’t go there just yet,’ Sarah said vaguely.
‘I won’t hide in the shadows.’
‘I’m not sure they’re going to be overjoyed that you’re on the scene, actually.’ She flushed guiltily as she remembered their distress when she had told them how she had fallen hard for a guy who had then chucked her. The hormones rushing through her body had made her all the more vulnerable and emotional, and she had spared nothing in her mournful, self-pitying account.
Honestly, she didn’t think that Raoul was going to be flavour of the month if she produced him out of nowhere. But she knew that she would have to sooner or later. Her mum always phoned at least three times a week, and always had a chat with Oliver. Sarah wouldn’t want her to find out via her grandchild that the heartbreaker and callous reprobate was now around.
‘I’m getting the picture,’ Raoul said slowly.
Sarah thought it better to move on quickly from that topic of conversation. ‘I’m sure they’ll be very happy.’ She crossed her fingers behind her back. ‘They’re very conventional. They’ll be delighted that Oliver will now have a father figure in his life.’
He stood up. ‘I’ll be in touch tomorrow. No—scrap that. I’ll come by tomorrow afternoon so that I can be introduced to my son.’
The formality of that statement brought a rush of colour to Sarah’s face, because it underlined his lack of enthusiasm for the place in which he now found himself.
‘Should I buy him something special to wear?’ she said tartly. ‘I wouldn’t want his appearance to offend you.’
‘That’s not helpful.’
‘Nor is your approach to Oliver!’ Tears stung the back of her eyes. ‘How can you be so … so … unemotional?
