that she wanted to vomit. But she was afraid of him, afraid of the power he had over her here, far from the protection of her family.
Then, the night before they were due to fly back to England, Philip told her what he would do if she ever told anyone what went on between them. He had friends, he said—friends she wouldn’t like to know. He was not specific, but Jaime was left in no doubt as to what might happen if she attempted to leave him. He loved her, he said, and the ignominy of that remark was a small indication of how abnormal he was. He didn’t love her. He didn’t know the meaning of the word. But he wanted her, and he would do anything he had to do to keep her. And what she had hoped was just a term of detention became a life sentence.
Jaime closed her eyes now, as the horror of that evening in Bermuda surged over her again. She had lost control, of course. As he had probably guessed she would. He had chosen his time deliberately, and all the pain and humiliation of the last two weeks had burst out of her in a desperate flood of recrimination. She didn’t remember what she’d said. But despair had made her reckless. This might be the last chance she had to say what she thought, and her anguish and agitation had sent her clawing for his face.
It wasn’t until she saw the glittering sensuality in his eyes that she realised he was actually enjoying her assault. He was a big man—almost as tall as Ben, and more heavily built. He had fended her attack quite easily, and there had never been any danger of her doing him any permanent damage. On the contrary, she had seen, to her dismay, that he was quite violently aroused, and when he ripped her clothes from her, and flung her on the bed, he climaxed almost as soon as he thrust himself inside her.
Jaime didn’t see her parents for two weeks after their return from that parody of a honeymoon. Philip made sure her face revealed no betraying bruises when he drove her down to Kingsmere for a visit. To all intents and purposes, they were an ideal couple. Both young, and tanned, and happy—as one would expect after spending two weeks in the sun.
If Jaime’s eyes were a little hollow, and her clothes seemed a little loose on her tall frame, it was assumed that she and Philip had been burning the candle at both ends. Certainly, she did her best to ensure that her mother and father had no reason to suspect otherwise. She didn’t trust Philip not to involve them should she become a problem, and she had come to the painful realisation that she had to live with her mistakes.
MARGARET Haines phoned on Thursday evening. Tom was out, and when Jaime picked up the phone she had already steeled herself to speak to Ben. It was three days since that incident in the kitchen, and she was sure it wouldn’t be another week before they heard from him again.
However, she was pleasantly surprised to hear Felix’s ex-wife’s voice—even if her thoughts immediately jumped to his present wife’s condition. She should have phoned Maggie, and let her know, she thought unhappily. She deserved to know, and no one else was likely to tell her.
‘Long time, no see,’ Maggie remarked, after the initial greetings were over. ‘How are you, Jaime? How’s Tom?’
‘Oh, we’re OK.’ Jaime responded quickly, wondering if Maggie had learned that Ben Russell was living in Kingsmere now. Like Felix, she knew that Jaime had been married to Philip Russell at one time, and, also like Felix, she had been told the tale that Tom was not Jaime’s ex-husband’s son. ‘Tom’s looking forward to the holidays, of course. Just another few weeks, and then he’ll consider himself a fifth former.’
‘A fifth former! Really?’ Maggie made a sound of amazement. ‘It doesn’t seem any time since he was starting infant school.’
‘I know.’ Jaime laughed. ‘But, believe me, it feels like it.’
‘Why? Tom’s not a problem, is he?’ Maggie was concerned. ‘He always seems such a nice boy. Unlike some of the tearaways I see walking along Gloucester Road.’
‘Oh—well, he is. A nice boy, I mean.’ Jaime had to choose her words with care. Although she was sure Maggie would be sympathetic, she was loath to discuss her present difficulties with anyone. It was foolish, she knew, but talking about it would only magnify the problem.
‘So, it’s just old age creeping on, is it?’ Maggie teased her gently. ‘It’s a pity you’ve never let another man into your life. I’ve always thought you were an ideal mother.’
Jaime’s lips twisted. ‘Thank you.’
‘No, I mean it.’ Maggie sounded sincere. She paused, and then added cautiously, ‘Don’t you ever hear from Tom’s father? I mean, he can’t have been such a bad guy. Tom’s far too nice for that.’
Jaime’s fingers tightened round the receiver. She had to remember that, as far as Maggie was concerned, Tom’s father was the reason she had broken up with Philip. Oh, what a tangled web I’ve woven, she thought ruefully. But before Ben’s reappearance she had been managing more than adequately.
‘No,’ she lied now, crossing her fingers as she did so. ‘No, I’ve no idea where he is. In any case, I’m quite happy as things are. As you say, I’m too old to start again.’
‘That isn’t what I said, and you know it,’ Maggie retorted drily. ‘These days women are having their first babies when they’re older than you are. It’s becoming quite the fashion—waiting until they’re in their thirties to start a family.’
It was the ideal opening, and, deciding anything was better than talking about her own life, Jaime took it. ‘I—–’ she began. It wasn’t easy but it had to be said. ‘I—did you know that—that Lacey—–?’
‘Is having a baby?’ Maggie finished for her, and Jaime’s breath escaped on a sigh. ‘Yes, I know, my dear. As a matter of fact, Felix told me himself. The old fool thought I might be upset about it. As if I would! It’s exactly what he needs to bring him to his senses.’
Jaime frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, I know Felix of old, and he was never what I would describe as a natural father! My dear, when my two were little Felix spent all his time on the golf course. He couldn’t stand changing nappies, or being woken up in the middle of the night. And from what I hear of Lacey I can’t see her letting him get away scot-free.’
‘Oh.’ Jaime couldn’t prevent a gurgle of amusement. ‘And here was I worrying about how you’d take it.’
‘Yes. Well, Felix obviously felt the same. But don’t worry, Jaime. It is more than two years since the divorce, and believe it or not I’m beginning to appreciate my freedom.’
‘I’m so glad.’ Jaime meant it. ‘So—tell me all your news.’
‘Well, I will. But, actually, I wondered if you’d like to come to dinner tomorrow evening. It’s ages since I’ve seen you, and I don’t entertain very often. We could have a good old natter, and sink a bottle of booze. What do you say?’
Jaime had to laugh. ‘I can’t afford to sink any booze,’ she protested hastily. ‘Alcohol contains far too many calories, and I’m trying to cut down.’
‘Rubbish.’ Maggie was dismissive. ‘You’re not overweight. You’re just statuesque. Remember all those Rubens nudes? People knew about femininity in those days.’
