لمشاكل التسجيل ودخول المنتدى يرجى مراسلتنا على الايميل liilasvb3@gmail.com






العودة   منتديات ليلاس > قسم الارشيف والمواضيع القديمة > الارشيف
التسجيل

بحث بشبكة ليلاس الثقافية

الارشيف يحتوي على مواضيع قديمة او مواضيع مكررة او محتوى روابط غير عاملة لقدمها


 
نسخ الرابط
نسخ للمنتديات
 
LinkBack أدوات الموضوع انواع عرض الموضوع
قديم 04-10-07, 04:09 PM   المشاركة رقم: 21
المعلومات
الكاتب:
اللقب:
ليلاس متالق


البيانات
التسجيل: Jul 2007
العضوية: 33118
المشاركات: 270
الجنس أنثى
معدل التقييم: Mai Ziyada عضو على طريق الابداعMai Ziyada عضو على طريق الابداع
نقاط التقييم: 152

االدولة
البلدSudan
 
مدونتي

 

الإتصالات
الحالة:
Mai Ziyada غير متواجد حالياً
وسائل الإتصال:

كاتب الموضوع : Mai Ziyada المنتدى : الارشيف
افتراضي

 

I am deeply sorry dear for not finishing it sooner, but I promise to finish it today

 
 

 

عرض البوم صور Mai Ziyada  
قديم 04-10-07, 04:19 PM   المشاركة رقم: 22
المعلومات
الكاتب:
اللقب:
ليلاس متالق


البيانات
التسجيل: Jul 2007
العضوية: 33118
المشاركات: 270
الجنس أنثى
معدل التقييم: Mai Ziyada عضو على طريق الابداعMai Ziyada عضو على طريق الابداع
نقاط التقييم: 152

االدولة
البلدSudan
 
مدونتي

 

الإتصالات
الحالة:
Mai Ziyada غير متواجد حالياً
وسائل الإتصال:

كاتب الموضوع : Mai Ziyada المنتدى : الارشيف
افتراضي

 

The telephone was ringing when Claudia returned from her shopping
expedition. She had left the wheels of the pram she had bought for her
in the car, carrying her new daughter upstairs in the canvas body of it
and leaving her securely strapped into it while she went back down
again for the rest of her shopping.

Breathlessly, she picked up the receiver, then tensed as she heard
Janice's irritated voice.

"Claudia, are you all right? This is the third time I've rung."
"Er..."
"If you aren't well enough to come into work, you might let us know."
Work!
Claudia blinked. She had completely forgotten about it and of course
she couldn't go back now. Not with her new baby to look after.

Quickly, she made up her mind.
/! was going to ring you, Janice," she fibbed.
"But I just haven't had time. Garth and I have been having a talk and
we've decided that since he's going into business on his own, it would
be best if I gave up my job--' " Gave up your job? But you'll have to
give a month's notice. You--' "I can't," Claudia interrupted her
calmly.

"I'm sorry, Janice, but I've got to go," she said as she saw that Tara,
as she had decided to call her baby, was beginning to wake up. She
would be hungry, ready for her bottle and the nourishing baby formula
that Claudia had bought for her this morning. Not as good as breast
milk, of course, but far, far better than Katriona's halfhearted
feeding routine.

"Claudia ... wait..." Janice protested.
"There's something I've got to tell you. It's about Katriona."
Katriona!
Claudia's fingers gripped the receiver, her body tensing. Was Janice
going to say something about the baby. had she guessed?

"She's... she's dead, I'm afraid. The police reported it to us this
morning. Apparently, someone alerted the authorities last night that
she'd overdosed, but by the time the paramedics got there, it was too
late. I thought you'd want to know. After all, she was one of your
clients."

"Er ... yes ... yes, thank you." Claudia's brain was in a whirl. If
the police had reported Katriona's death to the office, then that meant
that no one knew of her presence there in the flat, obviously assuming
that the ambulance had been sent for by the girl who had made the tele
phone call.

"Who...?" Claudia began.
But almost as though she had guessed what she was about to ask, Janice
continued, "The squat was empty by the time the police got there, not
unpredictably. Claudia... about your job " I don't want to discuss it,
Janice," Claudia interrupted her firmly, her mind racing as she re
placed the receiver.

Janice had said nothing about Katriona's baby. Perhaps she didn't even
know. Claudia had conscientiously mentioned her in her last report,
and alerted the health visitor to there being a child at risk in the
squat but by the time they got round to making enquiries, it would be
too late. Tara would safely be hers. But just to make sure, this
afternoon she would go and register her birth. She and Garth would
definitely have to move now. There was no way she wanted to bring up a
baby, her baby, in this flat. No, she needed fresh air, country air, a
large airy nursery, a big gar den. Smiling at Tara, she bent down to
lift her out of the carry-cot, holding her gently against her shoulder
as she went to get the bottle of formula she had prepared.

It was odd how some things came so naturally, so instinctively, Claudia
acknowledged as she settled herself in a chair and gave the baby her
bottle.

Tara sucked eagerly, almost greedily at first, but Claudia didn't let
her rush.

"Gently," she told her, "We don't want you getting wind, do we, my
darling baby. No, we don't."

After she had finished feeding her, Claudia put the bottle to one side
and cuddled her until she had fallen asleep in her arms, just for the
pleasure of holding her.

She would have to ring the office to find out when Katriona's funeral
was being held. This was a debt she had to pay the poor girl.

Tara snuggled deeper into her arms. Smiling tenderly, Claudia kissed
her soft, downy head. She smelled clean and fresh, of baby powder and
milk and baby skin, and she loved her as much, as intensely, as deeply,
as though she had grown in her own womb, Claudia acknowledged.

This was her baby. Hers and no one was ever going to take her away.
"You're mine now, my precious. Mine," Claudia whispered to the
sleeping baby as she picked her up and carried her over to the carry
cot

"You're safe with me. I'm your mother now and I love you so much."
When Garth came home they would have to go and buy her a proper cot.

Garth. A tiny shadow of doubt and confusion darkened Claudia's shining
happiness but she quickly dismissed it. Garth would understand. He
had to understand, but when he rang later that night to tell her that
his return was going to be delayed, Claudia was glad.

"Oh, Garth, by the way," she added before he hung up, "I've changed my
mind about living in town. I've decided you were right. We ought to
look for somewhere in the country, and I've decided to give in my
notice at work, as well. You were right about that, too. Work is
getting me down."

Claudia sounded different, or rather Claudia had sounded more like her
old self. Garth acknowledged after their call had ended. So why,
instead of feeling pleased and relieved, did he feel distinctly
disturbed?

Claudia was the only mourner at Katriona's funeral. Ignoring Janice's
disapproval, she had arranged everything, paying for the grave and her
headstone in the churchyard of the small Dorset village where she had
been brought up and where her parents were buried. After it was all
over, she stood at the graveside, Tara, dressed in new clothes and
wrapped in a warm blanket, in her arms. Together they shared the stark
silence of the morning and the bleakness of the newly turned earth.

"She's mine now, Katriona. I shall love her forever, for both of us,"
Claudia told the dead girl in a silent whisper.

Pulling the hood of her jacket up over her head, she hurried back to
her car, pausing to turn round to make sure that no one had seen her.

When Garth returned later that afternoon, the first thing he noticed
about the flat was the smell--sweet and fresh, invoking memories of his
childhood. The second thing he noticed was the fact that Claudia was
smiling as she came to greet him. The third was the sudden and totally
unexpected sound of a baby crying.

Dropping his overnight bag, he started to frown as he demanded, "What's
that?"

"Not what... who," Claudia corrected him before adding simply, "It's a
baby. Garth... our baby."

"Our baby...? What... Claudia...?" he began uneasily, but she was
already turning away from him, hurrying into the bedroom and returning
with a baby who had miraculously stopped crying and was now beaming
happily up at her as she soothed her.

"Claudia," he demanded, "What--' " She's mine. Garth," Claudia
declared fiercely.

"Mine, and no one's going to take her away from me. We'll have to
move, of course, and it's just as well that both sets of parents are
away. We'll have to tell them that we kept the pregnancy a secret
because we were afraid I might lose her and that she arrived
prematurely. She's so tiny that she could easily be a premature baby.
Of course, when we register with a new doctor, I'll have to pretend
that my medical records are missing. I'll make up a doctor's name
and--' " Claudia. Claudia. what's going on? " Garth interrupted her,
telling her starkly, " This baby isn't ours. She--' "She is now. Her
mother gave her to me, told me to take her. I had to take her. Garth.
If I

hadn't, heaven knows what would have happened to her. This way, she'll
get all the love she needs. No one could ever love her more than me.

Don't you think she's beautiful? She's even got my colouring, although
her eyes are more like yours than mine. Katriona had dark hair, too,
of course. "

Katriona. Garth's heart gave a shocked lurch.
"This baby is Katriona's...?"
"Was. Katriona's dead," Claudia told him, her voice automatically
dropping as she pulled the blanket round Tara's ears as though wanting
to protect her from what she was about to say.

"She overdosed. She sent for me, told me she wanted me to take the
baby. She wanted me to have her, Garth, she told me. She was so
desperate for me to have her that she even tried to tell me who the
father was. She claimed that he was someone special."

"She told you the name of the baby's father?" Garth's body went still,
his throat suddenly so dry that his voice sounded cracked and harsh.

"No, she tried to, but it was too late, and besides, it doesn't matter.
I don't care who he was. You're her father now. I'm her mother and
you're her father. I've called her Tara. It suits her, don't you
think? And do you know, she's so clever, I think she knows her name
already. She watches everything I do. She's going to be clever. Oh,
yes, you are, my darling, you're going to be a very clever girl
indeed," Claudia cooed, ignoring Garth's attempts to question her as
she added, "It's time for her feed. Garth. She's so hungry,

poor little thing, but she can't have too much food all at once as it
might make her poorly. "

Helplessly, Garth watched as Claudia bustled about the tiny kitchen,
heating milk and making up formula, the baby relaxed and happy against
her shoulder, the pair of them looking for all the world as though they
had been together since the moment of her birth. Looking for all the
world as though they were mother and daughter. But this child was not
theirs. not--Garth swallowed hard--not theirs perhaps, but she could
well be his. His.

"Claudia, this isn't right," he told her harshly.
"This baby isn't yours, ours. We cannot keep her. You must know
that." He tried to be gentle, make her understand, but Claudia rounded
on him like a tigress.

"She is mine. Garth, and no one is going to make me give her up," she
retorted fiercely.

"Claudia, please, I know you've been through a bad time and I can
understand that this baby--' " Tara, her name's Tara," Claudia
interrupted him.

"Say it. Garth," she urged him.
"Say it. She likes hearing it."
"This... Tara isn't ours, Claudia, and she must be handed over to the
authorities. They're probably already searching for her, her
family."

"She has no family," Claudia countered.
"Only us. The authorities will in all probability assume that one of
Katriona's druggy friends has taken her. She needs us, Garth. She
needs someone to look after her and love her. Do you know what would
happen to her if we handed her over to the authorities? She'd be found
foster parents and then she'd be passed on to someone else--' " She'd
be adopted by parents who loved and wanted her, Claudia," Garth
corrected her sternly.

"She doesn't need any other parents. She's got us. Don't try to make
me give her up. Garth," she warned him.

"Because I won't. If you don't want us, then we'll go away and make a
life somewhere for ourselves."

Her mouth firmed aggressively.
"I'm not giving her up. She's mine."
There was no reasoning with her. Garth recognised. She was like a
tigress protecting her cub and anyone who tried to take the baby away
from her would be asking for trouble.

"We can't do this," he protested again, but he could see from her face
that Claudia wasn't prepared to listen.

"We can," she insisted.
"I've already told you, Garth, we must..."
At that moment, the baby turned her head and looked at him, her dark
green eyes serious and thoughtful as though she knew what he was
thinking, as though she was judging him, reminding him that he could be
her father; that it was his own flesh and blood he might be rejecting;
that, in fact, he owed it to her to go along with Claudia's
determination to keep her. -. fo's child . his daughter, flesh of his
flesh. But what if she wasn't? What if. Could he take that risk?

Could he live with himself if he turned his back on her? Might he not
spend the rest of his life wondering, weighed down by a burden of guilt
and regret?

But if they kept her, wasn't she going to be a constant reminder of an
incident he would much rather be able to forget, an incident he had
already, if he was honest, almost forgotten, telling himself that
Katriona had lied to him when she claimed that he had fathered her
child?

"We can't do this, Claudia," he repeated, but he already knew that the
battle was lost and that, rightly or wrongly, Tara was now theirs.

And what amazed him more than anything else was not Claudia's very
evident and very fierce maternal love for the child, but the logic and
determination with which she was planning to carry through her
deception of being Tara's birth mother. It was as though all the dark
despair of the past few months had been wiped away, restoring Claudia
to her old self. No, not her old self. The Claudia now confronting
him was a mature, powerful Claudia. Watching her was like seeing
someone who had stepped out of the shadows and into the brilliance of
sunshine.

"Why don't you hold her for a moment?" Claudia suggested softly, as
seductive and determined as Eve. The mantle of motherhood, fiercely
protective and all-powerful, now sat as easily on her shoulders, had
settled as easily around her, as a cloud of lightest thistledown, no
weight at all, no burden at all to a woman like Claudia for whom
motherhood was the whole reason for her being.

Reluctantly, he took her. She lay in his arms,
frighteningly fragile and vulnerable, a scrap of human flesh who surely
had nothing to do with him, had no claim upon him, and then she opened
her eyes and looked unblinkingly into his, and Garth was lost.

He could actually feel the tug on his heartstrings as though she had
physically gripped and yanked them. All his arguments, all his logic,
all his objections to what Claudia was suggesting, vanished like mist
in the heat of the sun. Whether she was his child or not no longer
even mattered. To turn her away, to ignore that look of trust and
*******ment mingled with confident curiosity in those unbelievably
green eyes, was something he simply could not do.

"You see?" he heard Claudia whispering triumphantly at his side as she
put out a hand and gently touched the baby's face, watching as she
turned her face from him to her and started to smile.

"She wants to be with us. She needs us. You should have seen her when
I brought her home, Garth," she burst out passionately.

"She was so thin, so..."
Claudia took a shaky breath. It still filled her eyes with angry tears
to think of the way her precious girl had been neglected, her little
bottom red and raw with weeping sores from lying too long in
urine-soaked rags, her cries for attention sharp and thin with fear and
hunger. But all that was past now. She was safe now. Safe, wanted,
loved. Oh, so very much loved.

"Give her back to me," she commanded Garth.
Silently, he did so, finding it oddly disconcert and Betraying to have
his arms feel so empty without the slight weight of the baby.

"She's ours now," Claudia told him passionately.
"No one will ever know. I've registered her birth and named us as her
parents and I've changed doctors. I told the new doctor that she was
born while you were stationed abroad. It's a busy surgery. He won't
check and soon we'll be moving away anyway because I want Tara to grow
up in the country."

There was nothing Garth could do and he knew it. He could only marvel
at the speed and tactical expertise with which Claudia had mounted her
campaign--and won her victory.

Tara was theirs, but was she his?

 
 

 

عرض البوم صور Mai Ziyada  
قديم 04-10-07, 04:34 PM   المشاركة رقم: 23
المعلومات
الكاتب:
اللقب:
ليلاس متالق


البيانات
التسجيل: Jul 2007
العضوية: 33118
المشاركات: 270
الجنس أنثى
معدل التقييم: Mai Ziyada عضو على طريق الابداعMai Ziyada عضو على طريق الابداع
نقاط التقييم: 152

االدولة
البلدSudan
 
مدونتي

 

الإتصالات
الحالة:
Mai Ziyada غير متواجد حالياً
وسائل الإتصال:

كاتب الموضوع : Mai Ziyada المنتدى : الارشيف
افتراضي

 

l}aising her head from its comfortable position on Ryland's knee, Tara
reached for the TV remote control and switched off the set. They had
just been watching a hired video to accompany the take-away Chinese
meal Ryland had ordered for them while they spent an evening in
celebrating the anniversary of their first date.
"Mmm.-just think," Tara commented, stretching luxuriously before
resuming her supine position across his body.
"This time next month we'll be in Boston."
"Mmm ... I don't know about that," Ryland teased her, sliding his hand
to her hair and letting it slip through his fingers.
He loved her hair, so thick and silky and shiny. It felt so strong and
healthy, so full of life, just like Tara herself. That was one of the
first things that had attracted him to her, that glowing look of
happiness and well-being that practically vibrated from her body. He
didn't think he had ever met a happier or better adjusted person than
his Tara; the warmth of her personality, her relaxed self-confidence,
her air of being totally at ease with herself and with her world had
struck him immediately.
"You haven't got your visa yet and I don't know that they'd waive
restrictions to let someone like you in he said as she sat up swiftly,
the indignant look in her eyes fading as she realised he was
deliberately teasing her.
"Oh, you," she said, pouting at him, her mouth looking so deliciously
full and sexy that Ryland just had to lean over and kiss her.
"Mmm.-you still taste of chow mein." Tara laughed softly as she kissed
him back.
"Do you remember the first time I stayed over here with you?" she
asked him.
"What do you think? Of course I do."
"You didn't have any condoms and we had to go out and buy some--' " I
was expecting you to bring them," Ryland fibbed, straight-faced.
His parents would adore her, he knew that already. His mother would
take her to heart like another daughter and his father would be
entranced by her. Not once in his life could Ryland ever remember a
situation where he had been seriously at odds with his parents nor them
with him. They would know just as he had known how right Tara was for
him.
Where his aunt was concerned, though, the situation was perhaps
slightly more complicated. Ryland didn't need to be told how important
it was to her that he married and produced children.
After her husband's death, she had poured into the business all the
loving and cherishing, all the hopes for the future, she would more
normally have given to Margot and ultimately the grandchildren Margot
would give her. Grandchildren who would be her natural successors in
the business and the natural inheritors of the huge fortune she herself
had inherited from her own extremely wealthy family and brought into
the marriage, just as Ryland would be his father's.
But there would be no grandchildren for her. That had been made clear
by Margot's defiant and bitter announcement that she would never be
able to have children. Having been barred from having Lloyd's by the
law of the land, she had now barred herself from having any other man's
by the law of life.
"I've had a sterilisation," she had told her mother flatly, adding with
the intensity that was so much a part of her personality, "I can't have
the child of a man whom I don't love, and the only man I shall ever
love is Lloyd."
"How do you think your family, your aunt, will react to me?" Tara
tuned into his thoughts.
Ryland forced himself to smile reassuringly at her.
"My aunt will be fine. Everything will be fine," he told her
determinedly, reaching for her.
He was keeping something from her, withholding something vital, Tara
knew instinctively. She was getting the same feeling she could
remember getting as a young girl when she had known something was wrong
between her parents. In the beginning, prior to their divorce, they
had tried to pretend that everything was all right in order to protect
her, but she had known that it wasn't.
Ultimately, of course, they had told her the truth--they simply weren't
the kind of parents who would ever deliberately lie to her--but their
initial refusal to allow her to know what was happening had left her
with a subconscious fear of having anyone close to her not be
completely honest with her.
"There's something you're not telling me," she challenged him
immediately and quietly.
Ryland just managed to prevent himself from taking a sudden indrawn
breath of self-betrayal.
"My family will love you," he insisted, knowing it to be the truth, but
even though she could hear the conviction and the veracity in his
voice, Tara still felt that there was something he wasn't sharing with
her.
What? A boyhood romance with a local girl, a girl whose background,
whose familiarity, might make her seem more appropriate marriage
material in his family's eyes? She knew him too well to suspect him of
having had any serious relationship he had not told her about.
But she wanted to silence that sharp, anxiety- inducing inner voice
that was gnawing away destructively at her happiness, but Ryland
patently had other ideas.
"Ryland," she protested as he leaned forward and started to nuzzle her
throat, slipping his hand inside her blouse as he did so.
Ryland didn't want Tara to probe any further into his family
background. He still had to figure out a way to explain to her that
instead of becoming the wife of a reasonably well-paid young executive
in a family business of which one day he would ultimately take charge,
he was, in fact, being groomed for the role of heading a hugely
profitable enterprise--one that, backed by astute past investment,
meant that his and his aunt's personal fortune consisted of assets
worth many millions of dollars.
Add to that the money he would one day--hopefully a long, long way in
the future--inherit from his aunt.
His stable, loving family background and his own keen brain might have
taught him the danger of allowing people into his life simply because
they were impressed by or envious of the wealth that would one day be
his, but they had done nothing to prepare him for falling in love with
a woman who knew nothing about the strictures that modern society could
impose on the wealthy and who, he suspected, would enjoy them even
less.
Boston wasn't Hollywood, but it didn't have to be. All over the world,
even in Britain, wealthy men were finding that in order to protect
their families, they had to provide them with the kind of security that
would provoke an outcry from the human rights people.
Being shut away behind high fences and followed by their personal
bodyguards certainly didn't make for the kind of life he wanted for his
kids, or necessarily the kind of life they would have to have, but he
doubted that they would be able to have the same kind of freedom Tara
had enjoyed as a child, and instinctively he knew that Tara would want
her children's childhoods to follow the same pattern as her own.
"But of course I want my children to have both their parents living
with them she had told Ryland seriously when they had been talking on
the subject.
When she had just finished telling him about her own childhood forays
into the countryside with a gang of other kids to catch tiddlers and
pick fruit, how could he tell her that such simple pleasures might
never be able to be enjoyed by their own children? As the sons and
daughters of a very, very wealthy man, for their own protection they
would have to play behind the secure walls of their own home.
Perhaps he should have been more open and honest with her right from
the start, Ryland acknowledged now, but in the early days of their
relationship, he hadn't told her because, quite simply, he hadn't
wanted to risk scaring her off. Some women might run a mile towards a
man with money, other women run a mile away, and Tara quite definitely
belonged to the latter category.
Well, with any luck, it would be a good ten years or so before his aunt
finally retired. She was sixty now, but as she had said on the
occasion of her sixtieth birthday the previous year, she certainly had
no intention of stepping down from control of the business as yet.
Hopefully, by the time she did, Tara would have had time to accustom
herself to the reality of what his family's financial background
entailed, Ryland decided, reminding her lovingly, "We were meant to be
celebrating our anniversary," before he started to deliberately tease
the delicate spot just beneath her ear with his lips.
Impossible to persist with their conversation when such delicious
little thrills of pleasure were running so distractingly down her body,
and her breast was already swelling appreciatively beneath the
determined caress of his fingers.
"Mmm..." Closing her eyes, Tara told him softly.
"Ry, you're so lucky."
"Why, because you love me?" he teased her.
But Tara shook her head and told him seriously, "No, because your
parents are still together. I love both Mum and Dad to death, but
sometimes..." She paused and shook her head.
"It would be the most wonderful thing in the world for me if they got
back together. It would make everything perfect."
"I do understand how you feel," Ryland told her gently, 'but they're
two adults, Tara. "
"I hear what you're saying," she said thoughtfully.
"It's just... I did try to get them back together once, but it didn't
work."
She had been fourteen at the time, missing having her father at home,
and suddenly with her own burgeoning womanhood, very intensely
conscious of the attention her mother was attracting from other men,
aware of it and jealous of it on her father's behalf.
There had been one man in particular, a client of her mother's, a
divorced man in his late thirties. He had persuaded her mother to have
dinner with him one night.
"I have to go, darling," Claudia had told Tara apologetically.
"It's... it's business and Ashley is so busy, the only time we can
discuss things is in the evening."
"Then why can't you discuss it here in your study?" Tara had demanded
sharply.
"Why do you have to go out and have dinner with him? I don't want you
to go," she had declared passionately, her eyes filling with quick
tears.
"Oh, darling, please don't cry," Claudia had begged her in
consternation.
"What's wrong? Has something happened at school, someone upset you?"
"No, it's nothing like that," Tara had told her truthfully before
adding sternly, "The other girls at school talk about what happens when
when women go out for dinner with men at night and I've seen it on
television, as well. He just wants to get you into bed. Does Daddy
know what you're planning to do?" Tara had challenged her.
Immediately, Claudia's embarrassment had turned to anger.
"What I do and whom I see has nothing whatsoever to do with your
father. We're divorced, Tara, and we both have our own lives now. Your
father has no right to comment on what I may or may not choose to do,
just as I have no veto over the way he lives his life."
"Daddy still has our photograph in his bedroom," Tara had told her
provokingly, 'and he doesn't take other ladies out for dinner. "
Her mother had compressed her lips and looked away from her.
The evening her mother was supposed to be going out for dinner, Tara
had developed a sick stomach and her mother's date had to be
cancelled.
A couple of weeks later while staying with her father, Tara had told
him how afraid she was of her mother becoming involved with anyone
else.
T want the three of us to be together again," she told her father
passionately.
"I hate things the way they are."
"Darling, you know that that isn't possible," her father had
remonstrated gently.
"Your mother has a right to live her own life, to see other people, go
out on dates if she wants to. You know," he had added quietly, "I
understand how you feel, we both do, but these things happen, and the
fact that your mother and I don't live together any more doesn't in any
way affect our love for you. We both love you very, very much, Tara,
and I can promise you that nothing and no one will ever change that
love."
"I don't want Mum to meet someone else and get married to him. I don't
want either of you to," Tara had confessed, tears rolling down her
face.
"You are my father and mother and we should all be together. I hate
things the way they are."
"Oh, Tara..." her father had sighed, taking her in his arms to hold
and console her.
"You could speak to Mum, say something to tell her... that... You could
come back," she had insisted, but her father had shaken his head.
"No, my darling, I'm afraid that I can't."
Over the following months, Tara had tried relentlessly to get her
parents back together again, but all to no avail. Now, as an adult,
she could see with hindsight that they must have discussed what she was
trying to do because they had remained steadfast, so immovable, so
united in their calm determination to ensure that while she knew she
was secure in their love, their marriage was irretrievably over.
Now, of course, she fully understood and accepted that they both had a
right to live their own lives, but there was still a small idiotically
idealistic and childish part of her that passionately longed to have
them reunited.
As she had already told Ryland, once they were married, it would be
forever. She would never, ever divorce him or allow him to divorce
her, not once they had a family.
"I suppose you think I'm hideously old fashioned," she had challenged
him on the subject.
"No. I agree with everything you're saying," he had returned
quietly.
"Our marriage will last, Tara, and it will be for life. How could it
be otherwise when my love for you will last for eternity?"
He had spoken with such quiet conviction that all the doubts she had
been harbouring about the thought of making such a huge emotional
commitment had immediately been banished.
"We won't ever have any secrets from one another, will we, Ry?" she
asked him now as she snuggled deeper into his arms.
"And we'll al n ways tell each other the truth... everything. I don't
want there ever to be anything about you that! don't know."
"You mean like the fact that I turn into a werewolf at full moon?"
Ryland teased her, but although he was laughing, deep down inside he
was guiltily aware of the fact that there were facts about himself that
he had withheld from her. Facts that she had every right to know.
He would tell her before they left for Boston, he promised himself as
he stroked the bare flesh of her hip. There was plenty of time yet for
him to prepare her for the truth, and after all, marrying a millionaire
had to have some advantages--one of which surely being that she could
fly her mother out to visit them whenever she wished.

 
 

 

عرض البوم صور Mai Ziyada  
قديم 04-10-07, 04:35 PM   المشاركة رقم: 24
المعلومات
الكاتب:
اللقب:
ليلاس متالق


البيانات
التسجيل: Jul 2007
العضوية: 33118
المشاركات: 270
الجنس أنثى
معدل التقييم: Mai Ziyada عضو على طريق الابداعMai Ziyada عضو على طريق الابداع
نقاط التقييم: 152

االدولة
البلدSudan
 
مدونتي

 

الإتصالات
الحالة:
Mai Ziyada غير متواجد حالياً
وسائل الإتصال:

كاتب الموضوع : Mai Ziyada المنتدى : الارشيف
افتراضي

 

The year Estelle turned eleven, her mother had suddenly announced that
she was to spend her summer holiday with her father.

"I don't want to," Estelle had protested.
"The farm's miles from anywhere. There's nothing to do. I hate it.
Why can't I stay here in London?"

"Ethian and I will be going away," Lorraine told her coolly.
"You can't stay here."
"Going away? Where?" Estelle challenged her sharply.
"You were away at Easter."
"That was business," her mother told her crisply.
"You went skiing," Estelle reminded her.
"It was a business trip. I simply accompanied your stepfather, which
is exactly what I shall be doing this time. He's been invited to join
a group of other businessmen on someone's yacht."

"Some business trip," Estelle sneered.
"Estelle," her mother warned, her eyes starting to harden, 'if you're
going to be difficult about this. "

"You'll do what?" Estelle demanded.
"Leave me here on my own? That's illegal."
"Estelle, I'm really getting quite out of patience with you," Lorraine
berated her.

"You're going to stay with your father and that's that."
"You shouldn't have had me if you didn't want children," Estelle threw
angrily at her.

"No, you're quite right. I shouldn't have," her mother retaliated
evenly, 'and believe me, Estelle, increasingly I rather wish that I
hadn't. "

Later that night, listening outside their bedroom door, Estelle had
heard her mother complaining to her stepfather.

"Estelle's being dreadfully difficult about going to her father's. I
think she's jealous of me, Ethian. She obviously resents the idea of
my having any fun, and after all that I've sacrificed for her. John
never wanted her."

"Perhaps you should tell her that, make her realise how lucky she is,"
Estelle had heard Ethian responding.

"I'm beginning to think you're right and that I should have sent her
away to school."

Estelle's visit to her father hadn't been a success. She had hated the
farm and her stepbrother

Ian. Sophie's presence in her father's life she treated with cool
disdain, and as for Rebecca-she loathed and detested her.

"You don't want me here," she had accused her father after he had taken
her to task for deliberately trying to upset Rebecca and Ian.

"You never wanted me...."
She hadn't known which of them she had resented more, her mother or her
father. Neither of them loved her, and her father had compounded his
lack of love for her by so obviously and generously giving his second
family the love he had never felt for her.

It had caused her to feel a mixture of anger, bitterness and sharp
resentment deep down inside to see the way he played with Rebecca, to
see the love in his face, hear it in his voice when he was with her.

Ian, her stepbrother, she felt nothing but contempt for. The way he
tried to placate her as though he actually felt sorry for her because
he lived with their father made her despise him even more. Well, Ian
could keep their father. He was the last person she wanted in her
life, the very last.

When she grew up, she was going to find herself a rich man, richer than
Ethian and much, much richer than her father and he would always,
always put her first.

Estelle despised Ian and Sophie for trying to make friends with her.
Why should either of them like her? She certainly didn't like them.
She didn't like anyone, not really. People only pre and Betray 303
tended to like you because they wanted something from you. Her mother
pretended to like her, to love her when she wanted to get her to do
something like coming here so that she could go away and enjoy herself.
Having children meant that you couldn't enjoy yourself.

Estelle was openly scornful of her father's very evident love for his
second family and openly hostile towards his attempts to include her in
their family activities.

She couldn't wait for the visit to end. At least in London she had the
freedom to do what she wanted. Her mother was far too busy with her
own life to interest herself over-much in Estelle's. Just so long as
she kept out of her way, Estelle was pretty free to do as she
pleased.

Determinedly ignoring all Sophie's warm overtures and her father's
attempts to reach out to her, Estelle grimly sat out her visit in
contemptuous loathing.

It pleased her to know that she was upsetting her stepmother by arguing
with her father, the whole household, making them unhappy. Why
shouldn't she? She hated them all, but most especially she hated her
father. Oh, yes, she hated him.

But she was determined that, unlike Blade, she was not going to allow
her father to send her away to boarding school.

He alternately fascinated and ant agonised her. Although her mother
and Ethian had been married for almost four years, in all that time
Blade had probably spent less than four months at home with them. Her
mother and stepfather had refused to have him living with them full
time.

"Having Estelle at home is bad enough," Estelle had heard her mother
complaining to Ethian.

"I'm not having Blade here, as well." And so Blade had continued to do
as he had done before his father's second marriage. He spent even some
of his holidays at school.

"The only reason he married your mother is because he wants someone to
have regular sex with," Blade had told Estelle the previous
Christmas--Christmas was the one time when her mother made an exception
and had him at home with them.

"You do know what sex is, don't you?" he had demanded when Estelle
made no response.

Of course she did. She had heard the sounds emanating from the room
her mother shared with Ethian. She had seen people having sex on
television, giggled about it with her school friends, and besides, her
mother had had other men friends before meeting Ethian.

Blade hated his father as she did hers.
Their mutual distrust and hatred of the parents who controlled their
world formed a strong bond between them and added to that there was
something about Blade, something about the dark, brooding, deliciously
frightening maleness of him that attracted Estelle.

He was so different from everyone else she knew--the girls at her
all-girls' school; her mother, Ethian, her father and his family.

was. Blade was. dangerous. dangerous and exciting, but even more
importantly, underneath they were the same kind of people. Estelle
didn't know how she knew that fact; she just knew that she did.

1 he noisy sound of a toddler indulging in a terrible two's tantrum
with his mother outside her car window snapped Claudia out of her
reverie, bringing her sharply from the past to the present. Her body
felt stiff and cold and she was shocked to see that it was late in the
afternoon.

How many hours had she spent sitting in the car reliving the past? Far
too many.

And what had possessed her to do such a thing in the first place, to
abandon her responsibilities and come here? Why ask herself a question
to which she already knew the answer?

Guilt and pain had motivated her. Guilt and pain and fear. Not guilt
because she had taken Tara--that was something she could never feel
guilty about doing, she told herself fiercely. Holding Tara close to
her own body as she carried her away from the squat, she had promised
her that from her, Claudia, she would have every bit as much love as
she would have received from her own mother. She had promised her,
too, that she would love her just as dearly, just as closely, just as
much as she would a child conceived within her own body. That to her,
Tara was and always would be hers. No, it wasn't guilt for taking Tara
that she felt but guilt because she had let Tara grow up in ignorance
of the truth, not just to protect her daughter but to protect herself,
as well.

"One day, you will have to tell her the truth-for her own sake," Garth
had warned her gently the first day Tara started school.

She had promised him that she would--when the time was right. Then
before she could. before the time had been right, she had found out
the truth about Tara's conception, had found out that Garth, her own
husband, was Tara's father, and after that there was no way, no way at
all, she could bring herself to tell Tara whose child she really
was--no way she could even begin to admit to herself whose child she
was.

At every point in Tara's life when the truth might have been
discovered, Claudia had held her breath in dread, but to her relief no
one had ever questioned anything and the lies she had told in order to
register Tara's birth had never been exposed.

But all it would take for her deception to be revealed would be for
someone to check at the hospital or at the surgery where Claudia had
claimed a doctor had attended after Tara's unexpected early home
birth.

When they initially moved to Ivy House, she had got away with claiming
that their medical records had been lost. No one had ever questioned
the fact that she had registered Tara's birth some weeks after it had
actually taken place and Tara had a completed birth certificate naming
Claudia and Garth Wallace as her parents.

Well, one part of that at least was true even if Claudia herself hadn't
known it when she registered Garth and herself as Tara's father and
mother.

But everyone knew how meticulous American embassies were about checking
people out, and according to Tara, Ryland's aunt was even more
particular.

Claudia could feel her heart starting to beat far too fast. Garth was
right. She couldn't allow Tara to find out the truth from someone
else, but how on earth was she going to tell her? And what would
happen when she did? Would Tara understand or would she turn away from
her, reject her, end up hating her? Tara loved her, she knew, but
Claudia also knew how terrifyingly quickly love could turn to bitter
hatred when the loved one was discovered to have lied and cheated, when
one's trust in them was destroyed, when one's belief in them was
shattered.

She would certainly never forget how she had felt the day she
discovered that Garth was actually Tara's father.

It had been an ordinary enough day to begin with, apart from the fact
that Claudia and Garth had had an appointment with the ear, nose and
throat specialist at their local hospital to discuss the forthcoming
removal of Tara's tonsils.

She had suffered very badly from throat infections ever since first
starting school and their doctor had finally persuaded Claudia, much
against her initial feelings, to seek the advice of a specialist.

Since Tara's birth, Claudia had been very wary of any contact with
members of the medical profession, but only Garth knew that this sprang
not so much from her memories of the baby she had lost, but her fear of
anyone's questioning the supposed facts surrounding Tara's birth, and
it was for this reason that Garth was taking time off work to accompany
her to the hospital to see the specialist who had examined Tara the
previous week and who now wished to discuss with them his belief that
she would benefit from an operation to remove her tonsils.

The years since Tara's arrival and their move to Ivy House had passed
so quickly that sometimes Claudia simply didn't know where they had
gone. Garth's business had flourished and become extremely successful,
involving his being away from home and working very long hours. But
Claudia had been so involved and absorbed in motherhood and Tara's
needs that there simply wasn't time for her to miss him.

Occasionally, she was guiltily aware that Garth was being pushed to the
periphery of her life--a life that revolved almost totally around Tara
and their home, but although Garth was inclined at times to make
slightly acerbic comments about the fact that even on the rare occasion
when they did have time to themselves, inevitably the sole topic of her
conversation was Tara, deep down Claudia knew that he adored her just
as much as she did herself.

And if their sex life had dwindled to the odd hurried,
early-Sunday-morning coming together interspersed by the even less
frequent, slightly more leisurely intimacy, well, she had concluded
from what she heard from other women that she was not alone in finding
it difficult to combine the roles of lover and mother, and fortunately
Garth seemed to accept the situation.

It was a crisp autumn morning, and as they set off for the hospital,
Claudia tried to relax and enjoy the novelty of being driven instead of
being the driver.

"Remember the first time I took you out for a drive?" Garth reminisced
as though he had picked up on her thoughts.

"Mmm..." Claudia returned.
"The car heater wouldn't work and--' " I pulled off the road to check
it," Garth went on, adding wickedly, " I never got the heater working,
but I certainly enjoyed the way we eventually ended up keeping warm.
"

"Garth," Claudia reproved him, 'mind that cyclist. "
Garth gave her a wry look. Increasingly recently, Claudia had been
stonewalling him whenever he brought up the subject of sex. Because
she no longer wanted sex or because she no longer wanted him?

He understood how involved she was with Tara, how absorbed, how
besotted, a less kind man might have said. And he knew, too, it was
illogical of him to feel excluded and jealous, even resentful
sometimes, of the way that Tara's needs always seemed to take
precedence over his own, or rather the way that Claudia accorded Tara's
more importance than she did his own. It was not so much that he was
jealous of the time and attention Claudia gave to Tara but rather more
that it hurt him to feel that Claudia preferred Tara's company to his;
that he himself was somehow no longer of any real importance to her.

He understood, too, of course he did, that it just wasn't possible for
them to share the same kind of uninhibited sex life they had enjoyed as
a newly married couple living on their own, now that they had a
soon-tobethirteenyear-old daughter running around everywhere--a very
intelligent, aware, inquisitive daughter at that.

Worriedly, Claudia frowned, staring blindly out the window. She knew
logically that there was nothing to fear from seeing the specialist;

that everyone accepted that Tara was hers . their daughter. But she
still felt apprehensive, her face clouding as Garth turned into the
hospital car park.

When he saw her expression. Garth silently berated himself. Poor
Clo.

He ought to have been more sympathetic even if . even if what? Even
if he felt that Tara ought to be told the truth or at least as much of
it as she was capable of understanding.

Initially, Claudia had agreed with him, but recently he had noticed
that she was becoming increasingly defensive whenever he brought it
up.

"How can I tell her?" she had demanded the last time he tried to
broach the subject.

"She's too young to understand. And anyway, what would I say ... that
I'm not your mother?"

"She'll have to know one day, Clo/ Garth had reminded her gently.
"She might not," Claudia had denied stubbornly.
"Everyone believes that she's mine... ours," she had hastily corrected
herself.

"If anyone had been going to find out, they would have done so by
now."

Garth had sighed, not wanting to provoke an argument with her that he
knew would upset her. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps Tara might never
need to know. But what if she did . what if the truth were to come
out by accident?

"One day I'll tell her," Claudia had promised gruffly, 'when . when
the time is right. "

"The appointment with the specialist shouldn't take too long. Do you
fancy having lunch somewhere afterwards? There's that new Italian
place. You always enjoy Italian food."

"Oh, Garth, I can't," Claudia had protested fretfully.
"I've got to get some material for the fancy-dress costume Tara wants
to wear for her friend's birthday party, and anyway, it's my afternoon
at the centre."

Several times a month, Claudia gave her time and her expertise free to
a local community centre, offering counselling services to those who
needed them.

Garth knew that she enjoyed her work, but she had always stressed that
she could only do it so long as it fitted in with Tara's routine.

"I want to be there for her. Garth," she had pro 3
tested when he once made the comment that she seemed to have precious
little time for herself-and for him, he could have added but hadn't.

"It's not a sacrifice ... it's what I want to do."
The specialist had smiled warmly at them both when they were shown in
to see him.

"It's a simple enough operation," he assured them as he checked through
Tara's file, 'and I would certainly strongly advise that you go ahead.
The infections she's been having can be quite debilitating although
unlikely to cause any permanent damage--at least to her health. We do
find that children who are subject to these problems can fall behind
with their school work and it's certainly a procedure that's better
carried out now than when she's an adult. In fact, right now she's at
the optimum age for it.

"The only problems we could have would be with her extremely rare blood
grouping, but I can see from checking your records--' here he looked at
Garth '--that you and she both have the same blood group."

With what he obviously intended to be humour, he added jovially, "I
know they say it's a wise child who knows its own father, but in Tara's
case there could be no possible doubt."

Claudia had glanced towards Garth, expecting to see him looking as
astonished as she was herself, but instead and to her shock, she
realised that he was looking instead highly uncomfortable and almost.
almost guilty. She had known then immediately, instinctively, even if
illogically, as she grappled with the shock not just of what she had
seen in his face but of her own swift acceptance of it, that the
specialist was right and that Garth was Tara's father. Even worse was
the realisation that he must have always known it and kept that
knowledge from her, and most painfully of all, that Tara, her child,
was, in effect, not her child at all but Garth's.

She had managed to control herself enough to wait until they were back
in the car before she hurled her accusations at him, the words almost
choking her.

"Admit it. Garth," she demanded, 'because I won't let it rest until I
know the truth. You are Tara's father, aren't you? "

"There's a strong possibility that I could be," Garth responded after a
few seconds' silence, his mouth compressing as instead of looking at
her, he stared straight ahead through the windscreen.

"A strong possibility? You share the same rare blood group. You must
have--' " I knew that there was a chance that Tara could be mine, yes,"
he interrupted her grimly.

"But that was all. Believe me, Claudia, until today--' " Until today
you hoped that she wasn't? "

Garth said nothing. What could he say? That he had determinedly and
firmly put what Katriona had said to him to one side, telling himself
that so far as he was concerned, his love for Tara was not dependent on
whether or not he had physically fathered her. If he had, then it was
his responsibility and perhaps even his right to be her father, and if
he hadn't, well, she was still his daughter and he still loved her.

Although he suspected Claudia would find it hard to understand, part of
him simply hadn't wanted to find out. Not for a single heartbeat of
time would he want to deny Tara's existence, but there was a part of
him that desperately wanted to ignore that he might have had any part
in it. It had seemed better, wiser, safer, to simply put to one side
everything that Katriona had said to him, to remind himself whenever he
did think about it that Katriona herself had had her own reasons, had
not seemed very sure about Tara's paternity and he certainly had no
real memories of ever having been intimate enough with the girl to have
fathered her except that. except those odd, haunting memories of a
woman who didn't feel or smell quite right, a woman who had not perhaps
been Claudia.

"All these years you've known that Tara is your child. All these years
you've deceived me, lied to me...."

Claudia started to cry with a mixture of shock and anger, but as Garth
made to turn towards her and take her in his arms, she pushed him off
and shrank back in her seat, spitting at him like a small, angry cat.

"Don't touch me," she warned him.
"Don't you ever touch me again! You slept with Katriona. You had sex
with her. Garth ... why ... why...?"

Tears streamed down her face.
"How could you? How could you betray me like that... betray ms like
that? How often did you see her? How did you meet her? When...?"

"Claudia. It wasn't like you think," Garth pro n tested, adding,
"Look, let's go home where we can talk about this properly. I promise
you that until today I had no proof that Tara was my child."

"But you knew that she could be," Claudia insisted.
Gripping the steering wheel. Garth admitted curtly, "Yes. I knew
there was a ... possibility that she could be. Look, we can't talk
here," he told her.

"We need to wait until--' " Until what? " Claudia challenged him
furiously.

"Until you've had time to come up with more deceit? More lies...?"
"I have never lied to you, Claudia," Garth retorted sharply.
"Yes, you have--by omission. You've already admitted that you knew
that you could be Tara's father, but you never told me... never said
anything. You let me walk in there today knowing--' " Claudia, I did
not. I had no idea that he. Look, please, Clo.

know what you must be thinking, but it isn't like. isn't like you
think," he finished lamely.

"Isn't it? How much of a fool do you think I am, Garth? I know that
Katriona was Tara's birth mother. You've just admitted that you're her
father. So far as I know, there is only one logical way that that can
have happened, isn't there? Isn't there?" she stressed bitingly.

"Clo, please, if you'd just calm down for a moment," Garth begged her
urgently, "I could--' " You could what? " As he stopped the car at
some traffic-lights, Claudia saw her moment and seized it. She opened
the door and sprang out, telling him, " The only words I want to hear
from you. Garth, are the ones we both know you aren't in a position to
say. " And without giving him the chance to say anything more, she
angrily slammed the car door shut, turned on her heel and walked
sharply away.

Her pride kept her going as far as the first corner. Once round it,
she could feel further hot tears starting to burn her eyes. Tears of
shock, chagrin, rage and, most of all, anguished, agonizing pain.

All these years and she had never known, never guessed.
Take her," Katriona had urged Claudia as she lay dying, and now Claudia
knew why. God, how Katriona must have laughed at her. How they both
must have laughed at her, lying in bed together as they-" Are you all
right, love? "

The kind, motherly voice of the woman who stopped and put her hand on
her arm brought Claudia to her senses. Swallowing hard, she nodded her
head and lied, "Yes... just something in my eye, that's all."

Something in her eye! That gritty, saw-tooth, sharply destructive dart
of betrayal and jealousy had lodged deep within her heart and was
already beginning to poison her emotions.

It wasn't just Garth's sexual betrayal that hurt. Agonizing though
that was, it was his other betrayal that was hurting her the most--the
knowledge that he had known and kept secret from her all these years
the fact that Tara was his daughter. his child. that she was, in
truth, far more his than she was hers. that between them was a blood
bond there never would be between her and her beloved daughter. that
Garth legally had far more claim on her than she could ever have
herself. She hated him for that and hated herself even more for having
such a feeling.

Automatically, she started to make her way home, hoping that she
wouldn't bump into anyone who knew her, her actions instinctive, her
one goal to get home. to seek refuge where she knew she would be safe.
Until she got there, until she was properly alone, she couldn't, dared
not, examine her feelings too closely, and yet certain thoughts kept
surfacing to torment her.

How often had Garth seen Katriona? Where had he seen her? Not that
wretched squat, surely. The thought of Garth with Katriona in that
filthy place. the thought of Garth with Katriona anywhere made her
want to retch, to scream, to tear at her skin, her hair, to cry out
aloud her anguish and sense of betrayal. But she knew that she could
not do so, must not do so; for Tara's sake, she must try to behave as
normally as possible.

Why had Garth gone to Katriona? What had been lacking in their own
relationship, their marriage, for him to do so?

"Soldiers, army men. They're the worst," Katriona had purred
triumphantly. Had she known him even then? Had he. Garth, even then.
Tears burned her eyes like acid. Hastily,

she blinked them away but it was impossible for her to stop torturing
herself, to stop imagining the two of them together.

She already knew that Garth would not be home that evening. He had a
business thing he was attending, a conference where he was due to make
a speech, and as she let herself into Ivy House, she told herself
fiercely that she was glad she wouldn't have to see him; that she
didn't want to see him, not now, not ever. Not after what he had
done.

How many times had it happened? How often had he made love. had sex
with Katriona? Had he enjoyed it more than he had done with her? He
must have done, mustn't he? He must have wanted her more than he had
done her, his wife, otherwise he would never have. And Katriona must
have told him that Tara was his child. that she was carrying his baby
while she, his wife, had been unable. Claudia could feel the hysteria
bubbling up inside her, the pain that could only be voided by screaming
it into the silence of the empty house.

Suddenly, she was re-experiencing just as sharply and agonizingly as
though it had only happened hours ago all the feelings she had
experienced when she first realised that she would never be able to
have her own child.

But Tara was her child. Tara was hers, her daughter. She had been the
one to love her, to teach her, to mother her.

Tara. Soon it would be time to collect her from school, a ritual they
both enjoyed even though Tara sometimes complained that she was old
enough now to be allowed to walk home on her own. It was one of their
special times together, that walk home from school, when Tara would
tell her all about her day, chattering happily at her side, her hand
tucked in Claudia's.

Tara. Her daughter. Katriona's child. Garth's child, but her
daughter.

She was, she discovered, slowly rocking her hunched body backwards and
forwards as she sat on her bed, their bed, hers and Garth's. Suddenly,
overwhelmingly, she knew she was going to be sick. Had Garth taken her
to their bed? Had he.

She retched violently into the lavatory bowl and then leaned against
the wall, shaking from head to foot.

Had Garth told Katriona that she could not have any children? Had he
perhaps complained about her, bemoaned her inability to give him any
children? Was that why.

Stop it. Stop it, she urged herself as she flushed the lavatory and
then started to run the cold water tap. She had to pull herself
together for Tara's sake. Tara was the one who mattered, the only one
who mattered to her now, she told herself dully. Her marriage to Garth
was over. She knew that. How could it not be.

How could he not have told her. warned her. All these years when
every time he looked at Tara, he must have been remembering Katriona.

Perhaps that was why he hadn't told her--because he wanted to keep his
memories of

Tara's mother sacred, his memories of her conception sacred. Had he
loved Katriona. loved her perhaps more than he had ever loved her?

He must have felt something for her. Was that why he loved Tara?
Because she was her mother's child? Round and round her thoughts went,
faster and faster, spinning out of control, dizzying her with their
intensity and their immense capacity for causing her pain.

Tara. She had to go and collect Tara. The phone was ringing as she
left the house. Numbly, she ignored it.

Cursing to himself. Garth hung up. If Claudia was there, then quite
plainly she wasn't going to answer. If only he didn't have this damned
speech to give this evening.

He needed time to talk to Claudia. to explain. to make her listen,
but how could he talk to her with Tara there and. On impulse, he
quickly dialled the telephone number of Claudia's parents.

As though surprised to hear his voice, his mother-in-law readily agreed
to his request that she come to Ivy House to look after Tara for a few
days while Garth took Claudia away for a surprise short break.

"I know it's short notice," he apologised.
"Don't worry about it," he was reassured.
"I think it's a wonderful idea. Where are you going to take her?"
"Er.-it's a secret," Garth told her, and after all, it wasn't untrue.
As yet, he had no idea himself where he was going to take Claudia, only
that it would have to be a place where they could be completely alone
so they could get this whole sorry mess sorted out.

Too caught off guard to argue and still shellshocked from her
discovery, Claudia gave in numbly when Garth announced his plans. He
had found a small country cottage to rent on the Welsh border not far
from Hay-on-Wye. Claudia sat by his side in frozen silence all the way
there. Not because she was deliberately trying to punish him by not
speaking but simply because it was easier to remain silent than to
unleash the pain she knew was waiting for her once she started to give
voice to her feelings.

The weather had turned cold and wet, and Claudia's face had a pinched,
bloodless look that made her suddenly look very much older. Even the
way she moved was different. Garth acknowledged when they eventually
reached their destination and Claudia got out of the car and walked
slowly towards the cottage without waiting to see whether or not he was
following her.

In the forty-eight hours since the truth had come out, he had cursed
himself a thousand, no, a hundred thousand times for what he had done,
and yet, if it had never happened, there would be no Tara. He could
still put his hand on his heart and swear honestly that he had no idea
how he had ever come to have sex with Katriona. -and that it had
certainly not been a premeditated or even a wanted act on his part.

The cottage had clearly been planned and furnished as a cosy retreat
for two lovers. Down and Betray 323

stairs there was an open fire; upstairs there was only one large
bedroom accompanied by a good-sized bathroom complete with a huge
Victorian bath and discreetly hung mirrors. Every room had candles
temptingly on display, obviously intended to be used, and the whole
ambience of the place was one of sensual intimacy.

He could almost see Claudia recoiling and he suspected that if he
hadn't been on his way back into the cottage carrying the box of
groceries he was fetching from the car and blocking the doorway, she
would have turned and walked out.

/! don't think this is a good idea," she told Garth bleakly as she
watched him carry the groceries into the kitchen.

"We need to talk. We both agreed on that," Garth reminded her.
To talk! How civilised he made it sound. She didn't want to talk.
She wanted to rant and rave, to scream and howl, to beat her fists, her
head, her whole self against the wall in an agony of self-denigration
and loathing that she could ever have been so stupid as not to realise
what had been happening.

"How did you meet her?" she asked him tonelessly.
"How often did you...?"
"I saw her twice," Garth answered quietly.
"The first time was when I woke up to find her going through my clothes
and pulling out the *******s of my wallet. The second was..." He
stopped and carefully bent down to put the milk and other fresh food in
the fridge.

"The only other time was when I went to see her after she had contacted
me to tell me about... about Tara." He straightened up, then slammed
the fridge door, ignoring Claudia's stony silence.

"Claudia, it isn't like you think," he insisted emotionally.
"I don't even remember having sex with her.
She--' "You don't remember." Claudia swallowed a splintering, savage
barb of angry laughter.

"What was she like. Garth? Much, much better than me, of course. Did
you talk about me, the pair of you, laugh about me?"

"Claudia, don't," Garth groaned.
"You don't--' " I don't what. I don't understand. " She laughed
again, the sharp sound reminding Garth of something shattering,
breaking.

"Of course I understand. I understand that you had sex with her. That
she conceived your child. That you and she... Where did it happen.
Garth? m our flat... in our bed?"

She could feel herself starting to shake violently from head to foot.
The same nausea that had overwhelmed her before seized her again, but
this time she managed to control it.

"Claudia, I promise you it just wasn't the way you're imagining it,"
Garth declared huskily. It was vital she should understand what he
could piece together of what had happened. How he had woken to find
Katriona in the flat and how she must have taken advantage of him while
he was the worse for drink. Even to his own ears his words sounded
suspect. But he was struggling to explain dearly what was still, to
him, just a vague memory, a hazy dream.

He could see that Claudia had taken in very little, if anything, of
what he'd said. Was refusing, almost, to let his words touch her.

"I
don't want you to say any more," Claudia told him icily.
All that was turning over in her head was the brutally painful thought
that Garth had taken Katriona into their home, their bed. He had made
love to her in the same place where he had loved her, touched her, no
doubt in exactly the same way as he had touched her, perhaps even told
her that he loved her.

Claudia had thought that the pain of losing her unborn child and then
all her hopes of any future children would be the worst pain she was
ever going to be called upon to bear, but she realised now that she was
wrong. That had been pain, but it had, even in all its searing agony,
been a clean, sharp wound. This. this was something different. This
was a slow-acting poison, a corrosive acid--a gangrene that was going
to eat into her until she was totally destroyed, until all that she was
was consumed in its slow death grip.

"I know how you must be feeling," she heard Garth saying rawly to
her.

"Do you?" she challenged him bitterly.
"How can you know. Garth? How could you do this to me, to ms?" she
demanded brokenly.

"No wonder you didn't object too much when I told you I was keeping
Tara. I'll bet you had a really good laugh about that. Me, your wife,
taking on your ... your child by another woman... loving her..."

"Claudia. I didn't know then that Tara was mine. She could have
been--'

"Anyone's. Any man's," Claudia interrupted him, her voice cold once
more.

"Yes. She could, couldn't she? But knowing that, you still... Did you
love her. Garth?" she asked him bleakly.

"No." His response was instant and immediate, but to his distress,
instead of making her relent, his answer only seemed to increase her
bitterness towards him.

"Then that makes you even more despicable," she accused him quietly.
"If you had loved her, I could have understood, but to have done what
you did without loving her... I can't stay married to you. Garth," she
told him emotionlessly, 'not after this. I couldn't bear to have you
in the same room, never mind. " She broke off and turned away from
him.

"You're overreacting," Garth returned fiercely. He was beginning to
get angry now. She hadn't even heard what he'd said or given herself a
chance to work this through with him. She was ready to believe the
worst of him without even thinking it through, almost as though. as
though. "This is exactly what you've been waiting for, isn't it?" he
challenged her bitingly.

"An excuse to get me completely out of your life. After all, it isn't
as though I've been allowed much of a role to play in it recently, have
I? You don't want a husband, Claudia, and you certainly don't want a
lover. In fact, you don't want a man at all. At least not this man.
All you want is to be a mother. Well, you're not--'

"I'm not what? I'm not Tarn's mother?" Claudia burst out.
Garth swallowed hard and stared at her. That wasn't what he had been
going to say at all. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, her
face so pale she looked ill. In the eyes of the world, she might never
have looked less physically appealing, but so far as he was concerned,
he had never loved her more, never wanted to show her that love more,
never wanted. The cottage was small and all it took was a couple of
strides to take him to her side, his arms going round her as he cradled
her protectively against his body, murmuring over and over again,
"Clo... my love, my dearest love..."

"Don't call me that," Claudia cried, tilting her head back to look up
at him, but Garth was beyond recognising the fury and rejection in her
voice. All he wanted to do was to cement the bond he still believed
existed between them, to show her in the only way he knew that she was
his woman, his only woman, that she always had been and always would
be.

Bending his head, he lifted one hand to cup her face, the weight of his
body pushing her back against the wall, the intensity of his passion
catching her completely off guard as he started to kiss her almost
frenziedly, using his mouth to smother any objection she tried to make
as he kissed her over and over again.

Claudia felt so infuriated that she almost wanted to hit him--she, who
had never been or wanted to be physically violent or aggressive in her
entire life. She could feel the hot, hard weight of his body burning
into her own and it shocked her how easily her own body responded to
its familiarity despite everything that she had learned.

Angrily, she lashed out at him, striking a blow generated by the
deepest, most primitive, most primeval source of her feminine emotions,
wanting to hurt him, to damage him, to destroy him as he had done her
by betraying her love.

She heard, felt, the shocked gasp of air leaving his lungs as her fists
pummelled fiercely against his chest--a puerile, impossible attempt to
wound him and an act that didn't even give her the satisfaction of
emotional relief, she acknowledged as she felt the hot rush of acid
tears stinging her eyes.

"I hate you Garth... I hate you." She screamed the words at him and
was still screaming them ten seconds later when he grabbed hold of both
her wrists in one hand, scooped her up off the floor and across his
body in a fireman's lift and carried her still pummelling and kicking
towards the bed.

Afterwards, Garth swore both to her and to himself that all he had
intended to do was to dump her on the bed and leave her there until he
had calmed down, but as he did so, he saw her tear-streaked face and
the compulsion to reach out and touch it swamped him, flooding him with
remorse and anguish.

"Claudia, it wasn't the way you think," he started to say, but Claudia
had heard enough.

She raised her hand towards his face, intending to draw her nails
savagely across it, to do anything . anything to silence those words,
those lies, he was telling her.

"Claudia.-no!" Garth exploded, reaching for her wrist, locking his
hand with hers in a parody of the intimacy shared by a pair of lover's
entwined hands. Enraged, Claudia leaned forward, closing the
fractional distance between them, desperate to find an outlet for her
emotions. Then, acting purely on instinct, she sank her teeth into his
bottom lip.

Garth felt the sharp bite, the brief sting of pain, tasted the hot gush
of blood that followed it, saw the shocked exultation in Claudia's eyes
as she realised what she had done. And it was that, the sight of the
look in her eyes, the knowledge that she had enjoyed hurting him that
breached the fragile ramparts of his own battle-torn selfcontrol.

He was nearly a foot taller than her and far, far heavier. Add to that
his training as a soldier, and what surprised him was not how easily he
overpowered her but how long she continued to fight him. What shocked
him, though, was how physically arousing, how physically erotic it was
to wrestle with her on the bed; to feel the soft warmth of her body
beneath his; to know that above and beyond the anger they were both
unleashing, there was for him in what was happening between them a very
sharp and totally male awareness of the sexual heat being generated
between them. It was a heat and urgency he had al n most forgotten
what it felt like to feel as he held her down beneath him and watched
the way her body, her breasts, rose and fell with the exertion of her
breathing. In his imagination, he was already removing her clothes,
already laying bare the honey gold intimacy of her body to the touch of
his hands and his mouth.

Lying pinned beneath Garth on the bed, Claudia saw the way he was
looking at her and felt her body's response to that look--a look as old
as the one Adam had given Eve, a look as old as the one Eve had tempted
and taunted Adam into giving her. One shudder and then another went
through her as she recognised that while her mind might loathe what was
happening between them, physically and sexually her body was aroused by
it.

She knew even before Garth had lifted his hand to push aside her
clothes and reveal the hard-tipped fullness of her breasts just what he
was going to do and how she was going to feel when he did. Not only
was there anger, bitterness and contempt, there was desire, as well, in
the hot, liquid, wrenching feeling that pulsed inside her.

As his hand curled round her naked breast and his mouth found hers, she
could taste the warm salt shock of his blood on her own tongue.

Behind her closed eyelids, black and red whorls of colour mingled
violently together, reacting with her swirling emotions. Rage, pain,
desire, need. They were all there and others, too, that she couldn't
bear to acknowledge.

They made love quickly and fiercely, Claudia tearing at Garth's clothes
as she would have liked to have been tearing at his flesh, ripping,
shredding, hurting, raking his back with her fingernails as he thrust
deeply into her, hating him for the way he was making her want him
physically at the same time as she hated him so much emotionally, the
dagger points of her nails shredding his skin and yet also driving him
to thrust even deeper within her.

Their coming together was shattering and incredibly sensual. Claudia
shocked herself with her own angry aggression that manifested itself in
a need to make Garth reach orgasm deep inside her wave upon wave as
though she was somehow subconsciously drawing from him all of his
maleness, all of his 'seed', leaving him empty and drained, unable ever
again to give to anyone else that which should only have been given to
her, even though her body couldn't process it, couldn't use it.
couldn't grow a new life with it. Her own orgasms were the most
intense she had ever known, more of a pain than a pleasure, flooding
her body with convulsive explosions so powerful that afterwards her
body felt as light and empty as though she had been given a powerful
emetic. But, as she discovered in the months that followed, if its
purpose in her own subconscious had been to rid her of all her feelings
for Garth, it had not worked, not by a long way.

To the outside world, their divorce was quiet and amicable.
"I can't live with you any more Claudia had told Garth distantly.
"I
don't want you in my life, Garth. "
Garth had given in with a heavy heart. Despite all his attempts to
reason with her, she had remained obdurate. She could not stay married
to a man who had made the whole concept of their marriage a mockery and
a sham.

Tara, it was agreed, would live with her mother, with Garth remaining
very much a strong presence in her life.

/! can hardly refuse, can I? " Claudia had acknowledged at their final
private meeting, giving him a bitter smile as she added painfully, "
After all, she is your daughter. "

"And yours," Garth had insisted.
But Claudia had refused to look at him, and he had known that when she
turned her face away from him, it was because she was crying. He had
known, too, that any attempt on his part to go to her and comfort her,
to reach out and hold her as he so much longed to do, to tell her how
very, very much he loved her and always would, would achieve nothing
and probably make her hate him even more.

As she drove through the London traffic, it was Tara who was in
Claudia's thoughts. When she and Garth had broken the news to Tara
that they were divorcing, her shock and tears, her pleading with them
to stay together. Tara.

Had the circumstances been anything other than what they were, Claudia
knew that she would have relented then and given in to Garth's pleas
that they keep their marriage going. But how could she when every time
she looked at him, every time he touched her, she could only see
Katriona? Every time she saw him with Tara, she would be thinking of
how and with whom her precious daughter had been conceived.

Gradually, Tara had come to accept the separation, and Claudia had
stuck to her word that Tara could see as much of her father as she
wished had stuck to it despite the pain it caused her. Tara. Tara at
fourteen. sixteen. eighteen the age Katriona had been when. And now
her daughter was a girl no longer but a young woman, a young woman
poised on the edge of her own adult life, a young woman whose life
could be soured and spoiled as Claudia's own life had been by
betrayal.

But not the betrayal of a woman by a man. No, the betrayal she would
have to suffer would in its way be even worse--the betrayal of a child
by her mother.

 
 

 

عرض البوم صور Mai Ziyada  
قديم 04-10-07, 04:49 PM   المشاركة رقم: 25
المعلومات
الكاتب:
اللقب:
ليلاس متالق


البيانات
التسجيل: Jul 2007
العضوية: 33118
المشاركات: 270
الجنس أنثى
معدل التقييم: Mai Ziyada عضو على طريق الابداعMai Ziyada عضو على طريق الابداع
نقاط التقييم: 152

االدولة
البلدSudan
 
مدونتي

 

الإتصالات
الحالة:
Mai Ziyada غير متواجد حالياً
وسائل الإتصال:

كاتب الموضوع : Mai Ziyada المنتدى : الارشيف
افتراضي

 

Once when Garth had been urging Claudia to tell Tara the truth, she had
told him fiercely, "I can't. How can I? I owe it to her to protect
her--' " It isn't Tara you're protecting," Garth had cut in bitingly.

"It's yourself. Have you thought of what's going to happen, of how
she's going to feel if she discovers it from someone else?"

"She won't ever discover it," Claudia had insisted, but even then she
had been afraid, aware how fragile the deception she had woven around
Tara's birth actually was and how easily the real facts could be put
together if someone was determined to discover the truth.

How would Tara feel if she had to face those facts alone in a strange
country, if Ryland's aunt should discover the truth and confront her
with it? How would she feel in Tara's shoes? What would her thoughts,
her feelings, be towards the 'mother' who had made it possible for her
to be put in that position by not warning her? By what yardstick would
she judge the extent of that mother's love when she had put her own
needs to be seen by her daughter in the best possible light above that
daughter's need and right to be protected from anything and anyone in a
position to harm her?

Tara would have every right to feel as betrayed by her as she had felt
by Garth and to hate her with the intensity with which she had hated
Garth.

Were her own feelings, her own needs, really more important to her than
those of her child? Yes, her child, she told herself fiercely, because
Tara was her child. Her love for her was that of a mother as surely as
though she had been the one to give birth to her.

Emotionally, Tara was to her flesh of her flesh, blood of her blood.
She was the kind of mother who had always known instinctively when Tara
was away from her if she was ill or unhappy, the bond between them so
deep that in some senses it was almost psychic.

She couldn't let Tara go to America without knowing the truth, and as
suddenly as though her vision had previously been clouded and hazy, now
it was startlingly clear, its clarity almost a sharp, physical pain.
How could she not have told Tara before? she accused herself.

How could she have allowed her own fear of being rejected by her
daughter to become more important than Tara's right to know the
truth.

To the shock of the driver behind her, she abruptly swung the car
round, cutting across a bus-only lane to turn left into the maze of
narrow streets that, if memory served her, would take her to her
destination.

With all the instincts of a homing pigeon, she knew there was only one
place she wanted to be right now, only one person she wanted to see.

Only one person could help her, could reinforce her decision and
protect her from the danger of changing her mind, backing down, giving
in to her fear.

Loving someone meant putting their needs above your own. True mother
love was selfless, not selfish. True mother love.

Garth cursed when he found that he had a visitor. It had been a bad
day made worse by the realisation as he drove away from Ivy House that
despite all the years that he and Claudia had lived their separate
lives, there was a part of him that had always recognised Claudia as
his. His wife, his soul mate, his love. It would have been the
easiest, the most natural thing in the world to have taken hold of her
earlier and to have shown her.

To have shown her what? That he could still overpower her and force
her to have sex with him? Oh, yeah, wonderful. What a hero that would
make him.

He frowned as he flicked up the button on the door intercom and snapped
a terse, "Yes?"

"Garth, it's me... Claudia. We... I... need to talk to you. I... I've
decided to tell Tara the truth..." Silence.

"Garth... Garth, are you there?"
"Yes... yes. Come up, Clo. No, wait there, I'll come down for you."
He was acting like a wild kid, he chided himself as he practically ran
down the flight of stairs that led to the entrance lobby, but he simply
couldn't help it, couldn't restrain himself.

"Claudia ... Clo..."
Lost in the unexpected warmth of the hug that
Garth gave her as he opened the door, Claudia was too taken aback to do
a thing other than simply let him hold her and be glad that he was
doing so, be grateful to him not just for his human warmth but for his
instinctive and correct reading of her mood, her fragility and
uncertainty, her vulnerability.

"I've been thinking all day about... about things," she told him
awkwardly as he released her and guided her towards the stairs.

"I
went to the flat. It's all different round there now. private houses
and--' "Yes. I know."

"You know." Claudia stared at him as he opened the door to his
apartment and ushered her inside.

"I... I drive down that way occasionally," he told her. He wasn't
going to tell her how often. When he felt particularly low he drove
there and simply parked outside their old flat, remembering. wishing.
"I've been so... blind. Garth, so... so selfish. I thought I was
doing the right thing protecting Tara, but today I suddenly realised...
I don't know how I'm going to tell her," she plunged on, unable to look
directly at him, focusing instead on the view beyond the window.

"I
just know that I have to. before someone else does. I'm so afraid.
Garth," she confessed, shocked not so much by her admission but the
fact that she was making it to Garth, of all people.

"I'm so afraid that when she knows the truth, she won't... she'll--'
"She'll be shocked, yes," Garth told her gently.
"But.-Tara is your daughter, Clo, in all the ways that count. She's
got your ability to reason and to judge only with compassion and
kindness. She'll understand why you didn't tell her."

"Will she? Will she understand that I was more selfishly concerned
with my own feelings, my own fear of losing her love, than I was of her
feelings? Oh, Garth..."

Suddenly, to her shock, she was shaking, trembling violently, so
violently that it was impossible to conceal the intensity of her
emotions. For the third time in the same day, she felt Garth's arms
wrap round her, comforting her, soothing her.

"Come and sit down," he urged, adding almost prosaically, "Have you
eaten? I was just about to make myself some supper."

It wasn't true. He had eaten earlier in the day, but now it struck him
that Claudia looked starved--not just for food, but starved in the
emotional sense of being hungry for every kind of nourishment. Warmth,
compassion, support. love.

"No... I'm not hungry," Claudia started to deny, then stopped. What
was she doing here? Why on earth had she come here to Garth? Garth,
the very last person she should have allowed herself to turn to in her
need to have someone help her, understand her.

"Yes... yes, I would like something, please," she amended huskily, and
she knew as she said the words that even if Garth wasn't aware of their
importance, she was. For the first time since she had told him she
wanted him out of her life, she was acknowledging that despite
everything she knew she ought to feel, she did still need him.

Need him or.
"Wait here," Garth told her.
Claudia could hear him moving about in the kitchen as she stood in the
living room, staring unseeingly out across the Thames. She had been in
his apartment before, briefly. It was furnished comfortably in a very
masculine fashion but it had, she suddenly recognised, an air of
impermanence about it, a lack of personal touches, as though Garth had
never truly adapted to it as his home.

It was obviously not a place ever lived in by a woman. Claudia smiled
painfully to herself as she assessed her own reaction to that very
female awareness. She didn't need to think about the presence of
another woman in the life of her husband. her ex-husband, she reminded
herself sharply. Hadn't it, after all, been her furious bitterness,
her love-torn jealousy, at the thought of his intimacy with another
woman, his betrayal of her and their love that had brought about the
ending of their marriage in the first place?

She could smell food cooking in the kitchen and her heart suddenly
jolted against her ribs as she recognised what he was cooking.

An omelette. The very first dish he had ever made her had been an
omelette, which he had fed her as they sat together, and afterwards.
afterwards. An omelette's comfort food, she had murmured protestingly
when he had produced it in response to her request for a romantic
meal.

But Garth had been holding her foot in his hands at the time, gently
stroking the flesh with his fingers while he slowly nibbled on her
toes. She had very quickly lost interest in debating what did and did
not constitute a romantic meal.

As she watched Garth walking towards her carefully carrying the tray
with her supper on it, Claudia tried to remind herself that she was
forty-five years old; that they had been apart for years and that he
had betrayed her, but it was no use. She could hear the ominous crack
in her voice, feel the tears threatening as she told him shakily,
"You've made me an omelette." And then the food was forgotten. The
only place she wanted to be, the only comfort she wanted, was the hard
warmth of Garth's arms around her as she sobbed against his shoulder.

"Garth, I'm so afraid, so very, very afraid."
"Hush, hush... come on. Come and sit down. Let's talk."
"It's different for you," Claudia told him almost half an hour later
when she had finally felt she had herself under something approaching
reasonable control.

"After all, you are her father."
"Yes, and I'm sure she's going to be really impressed when she learns
how I became her father."

"I... the young these days have a different view of... fidelity. She
might not--' " That wasn't what I meant," Garth interrupted her grimly,
explaining when Claudia frowned uncomprehendtngly, " I don't know how I
came to father Tara, Claudia. As I tried to tell you before, I can't
remember anything about it, or about. about her mother. All I can
remember is half waking out of a drunken stupor and realising that.
"

"That what?" Claudia pressed him.
"That there was someone... someone who didn't feel right. It's a
memory so elusive that I can't even call it a memory. How on earth she
managed to get..." He broke off, realising the infelicity of the
remark he had been about to make.

But Claudia was older now and more worldly wise.
"You mean how you managed to have sex with her. But you took her to
bed."

"No," Garth denied.
"I did no such thing. I went to bed, yes, and I woke up in bed to find
an unknown young woman, who I later discovered was one of your clients,
going through my clothes--a young woman who scarpered with the *******s
of my wallet too fast for me to be able to find out how she got in or
why she was in our bedroom. It is possible for a woman to initiate sex
with a man and--' " Without his knowing anything about it? " Claudia
interrupted him sharply.

"Garth...?"
"I was drunk," Garth reminded her.
"That she obviously managed to get an automatic physical reaction from
my body, I've never been able to deny--even though I personally can't
remember a thing about it. But the result, Tara's conception,

had nothing to do with me and it wasn't any more of my doing in any
true sense than if I'd been a sperm donor. No, less, because a sperm
donor is making a conscious decision to donate the seeds of life,
whereas--' "Do you think she did it deliberately, that she actually
wanted...?"

Claudia swallowed, feeling sick.
Now that she thought back, and she had deliberately blocked these
thoughts since the divorce, she could remember Garth telling her about
finding someone in the flat and her keys had also gone missing around
that time. Could Katriona have deliberately planned. "Who knows? I
doubt that even she knew," Garth told her softly.

"What I do know, though, is that you are the only woman I have ever
loved or ever wanted, either emotionally or physically, the only woman
I still want."

Claudia swallowed--hard--and even then her voice, the only voice she
could find, was still a very croaky and emotional whisper as she asked
him, "Garth, what are you saying? You and Katriona were lovers, you
said."

"No," Garth contradicted her firmly, shaking his head.
"Katriona and I were never lovers. We had sex, yes, we must have had
for Tara to have been conceived, even if I have no memory of it. But
it was only the once, and for all that I knew of it, for all that I
consciously contributed to it, I might as well have been completely
comatose."

"But you told me," Claudia whispered painfully, 'you said that you'd
been lovers. "

"No, Claudia/ Garth denied gently.
"You said we were lovers. I tried to tell you how it really was
but--you didn't seem to want to take it in."

"You didn't try very hard to persuade me to listen," Claudia defended
herself huskily.

"Maybe not," Garth agreed.
"Call it male pride if you like, but I was already feeling shut out, an
unnecessary and unwanted distraction who was coming between you and
Tara. It seemed to me that you were ready to seize on any excuse to
end our marriage. I felt you didn't want to hear the truth."

Claudia felt her eyes glaze with tears. She knew she couldn't wholly
deny what Garth was saying even if now. Even if now what? Even if now
she saw things differently, felt things differently? Even if now,
right now, sitting here with him like this she felt.

"I should have listened properly to you," she admitted quietly.
"Perhaps if it had been anyone other than Katriona..."
"You'd been through a traumatic time," Garth defended her.
"How traumatic perhaps neither of us truly appreciated then. You'd
lost our child, your own child, and any chance of ever having another,
and then Katriona... I've never said this to you before, Clo, but
there've been so many times when I've watched you with Tara as she's
been growing up and marvelled at the generosity of spirit that's
enabled you to love her so totally and instinctively. In your
shoes..." He shook his head.

"You'd have done what? Punished her for be n ing Katriona's child...
for the fact that you could not have children?

No, you wouldn't. Garth," she insisted.
"Not you."
"And not you, either," Garth reminded her.
Claudia bit her lip.
"She was so easy to love," she told him thoughtfully.
"Right from the very first time I saw her... held her.
Who knows? " She looked away from him.
"Perhaps subconsciously even then, a part of me somehow knew...
recognised that she was your child.

She's so like you in so many different ways. "
"That's funny," Garth whispered softly.
"I think she's very like you."
They both laughed and then Claudia's expression changed.
"What is she going to say when I tell her. Garth? How is she going to
react... to feel?" She closed her eyes against the tears she could
feel starting.

"I don't know if I can bear it. She's going to be so shocked. It will
be like I'm taking away the whole of her past, everything she believes
about herself. I've counselled adults who were adopted children..."

She swallowed hard, burying her head in her hands as she cried out in
despair, "Why didn't I tell her years ago when she was young enough to
simply accept that she wasn't mine? It wasn't just because I was
afraid that she could be taken away from us... from me. I wasn't just
afraid of losing her physically, but losing her emotionally as well. I
was afraid that she would resent me for not being her real mother, for
not being Katriona, for living when Katriona had died!"

"You are her real mother," Garth told her fiercely, filling the glass
of wine Claudia had been drinking as she ate her omelette, then pouring
a fresh one for himself.

"Tara's an adult now, Clo. Of course she's going to be shocked and
distressed, we both know that. And maybe even for a while she'll turn
away from us--that, too, would be quite natural. But she's your child,
remember, the child you've loved and taught. It's from you she gets
her sturdiness of character, her strength and her ability to judge
people and situations calmly and with compassion. It's from you that
she's learned how to love generously and healthily."

"I've made so many mistakes. Garth," Claudia admitted, taking a deep
gulp of her wine and refusing to be comforted.

"Look at the way I misjudged you. If I was counselling a woman in the
same situation as you were in, would I blame her because some man had
had sex with her without her permission? Would I reject her and turn
away from her?"

"It's easy to be dispassionate when the person you're dealing with
isn't someone close," Garth reminded her.

"Yes," Claudia admitted ruefully.
"I loved you so much that I couldn't stand the thought of you with
someone else, anyone else, but especially Katriona."

"Did you, Clo?" Garth asked.
"Perhaps if I'd felt more confident about that, about your love..."
"But you must have known how I felt," Claudia protested.
"Once, yes. I thought I did. But after Tara came along, I often felt
I was superfluous to requirements," Garth explained wryly.

"I always seemed to be in the way, our sex life dwindled to next to
nothing and--' "

I.
I felt guilty and. and ashamed of the fact that I couldn't give you
your own children," Claudia whispered tremulously.

"I thought when you touched me... when we made love, that part of you
must be thinking how purposeless it all was. Sometimes... after you'd
come inside me, I used to cry, thinking of the waste, all that effort,
all that energy, all those potential babies...."

"Is that what you thought, that making love was purposeless?" Garth
asked her steadily.

"Sometimes," Claudia admitted, 'but . but not always. "
Garth looked at her for a moment, then told her, "When I took you to
bed, Clo, when we made love, making babies was almost always the very
last thing on my mind. What I wanted, what I loved, was you ...
holding you, hearing you, seeing you, feeling you respond to me,
wanting me in the same way. And I'll tell you something else. Right
now there's nothing I want more than to recapture those feelings. Right
now the way I feel about you, the way I want you, has nothing,
absolutely nothing, to do with any desire to procreate a new
generation. It's your fault," he murmured as she looked up at him,
unable to conceal the expression in her eyes.

"It was all those memories you brought back when you talked about my
coming inside you."

"Garth," Claudia protested, but it proved to be a very weak and
ineffectual protest as she was the first to admit when he ignored it
and instead simply removed the wineglass from her nervous fingers
before cupping her face.

She didn't even try to move away when he looked searchingly into her
eyes, keeping his own open as he gradually lowered his head, his mouth
moving towards her own.

As his lips brushed rhythmically against hers, Claudia could feel her
eyes starting to fill with tears of emotion. How could she have
deliberately denied herself such tenderness? She could feel her mouth,
her body, starting to soften and turn to liquid, to fill her with
heavy, languorous heat.

"Garth." Instinctively, she pressed herself closer to him.
As he heard her moan his name, felt her body react to his nearness,
recognised all the little telltale signs that showed her responsiveness
to him. Garth dropped his hands from her face and gathered her close,
the touch of his mouth on hers becoming harder and more demanding, his
teeth tugging on her bottom lip, his tongue savouring the melting
sweetness of her mouth.

Claudia could feel herself starting to tremble violently as she clung
to him. His kiss had been like a torch being applied to dry under and
she was the one going up in flames. Had she been this ardent, this
passionate, when they were younger? If so, she couldn't remember it,
couldn't even begin to compare all these feelings that thundered down
on her like the overpowering force of a sudden avalanche with the
surely far tamer and less heated desire she had experienced in her
youth.

Was it the years spent apart, the years of sexual drought that were
causing this conflagration? And if so, why? Her celibacy had been
selfimposed and deliberate; there had been men who, if she had shown
the merest flicker of inter est, would have been more than willing to
love her. Luke, for instance, but what she had thought might develop
between them was nothing com pared to what she still felt for Garth.

Sex had never really been a priority for her and yet here she was
literally trembling from head to foot with need, aching with the raw,
hot, urgent pulse of it, wanting Garth so much that she could quite
easily, oh, so easily, have torn off his clothes.

Claudia gave a small gasp beneath the pres sure of Garth's mouth and
opened her eyes, shocked to discover what she was actually doing that
she had already removed Garth's tie and ripped open the top buttons of
his shirt.

"Don't stop," Garth begged her throatily.
Claudia licked her suddenly dry lips.
"Do it, Clo," she heard Garth demanding hoarsely, his eyes burning hot
with responsive ardour as he followed the movement of her tongue.

"Do it," he repeated when she didn't move, taking hold of her hand,
kissing her open palm and then slowly starting to convey it to his body
before stopping and keeping his gaze fixed on hers, slowly, ever so
slowly sucking on her fingers.

Garth's eyes were hot, so hot that Claudia felt she could burst into
flame from their fierce heat. Burn up, melt, dissolve in the honey
liquid flood of pleasure that was surging through her.

Her hands trembled so much as she unfastened the rest of his shirt that
she felt she would never complete her task, but once it was done she
gave a sharp, shuddering sigh when she saw his body. The hair on his
head might just be starting to become flatteringly tinged with grey at
the sides, but the soft curls of silky fine hair on his torso remained
just as dark as they had always been, his nipples small and flat but
staying sharply erect. Just like her own.

Claudia swallowed.
"Don't stop there," Garth urged her.
Claudia looked down at his belt and then up at his face, her eyes
betraying the fact that it wasn't just his belt she had noticed in that
swift female glance.

"I never was much good at keeping my reaction to you a secret, was
I?
"
Garth groaned, then added hoarsely, "God, Clo, I want you so much...
have wanted you so much and for so damned long that I don't know if I
can..."

Now he was undressing her and with far more speed and skill than she
had evinced, Claudia acknowledged, hesitantly aware that the last time
he had seen her naked body, she had been a younger woman.

But she needn't have worried. Garth's reaction as he exposed the soft,
warm globes of her breasts made her catch her own breath in shocked
delight.

No man could manufacture that kind of look, that kind of dazed and
possessive appreciation and desire. She didn't really even need his
words to confirm what she could see in his face, but it felt good to
hear them anyway as he told her huskily, "I'd forgotten just how... how
perfect you are. How... how much a woman... my woman. Oh, God, Clo,
I've missed you."

And then he was burying his face against her breasts, caressing them
with his fingers and then with his mouth.

It was almost like being young again, although Claudia knew that she
could never have been as uninhibited then, as freely able to accept not
just his desire for her, but even more importantly, hers for him;

nor could she have been as truly accepting not just of his sexuality
but of her own as well then as she was now. And she could certainly
never remember glorying so openly, so eagerly, in the immediacy of a
need that demanded instant and complete satisfaction, so much so, in
fact, that in the end she was the one to tug Garth's trousers off,
laughing at him while he groaned helplessly. But her laughter soon
died when he reached for her, drawing her down against him, kissing her
breasts again but this time lingering over the caress with deliberate
sensuality, licking and then sucking her nipples in the way he had
obviously remembered that she most liked.

Had he remembered, too, what else she liked?
She felt her stomach muscles start to contract while her body grew
moist.

It seemed that he had, and as her fingers curled ecstatically into the
still-thick springiness of his hair, Claudia looked down at the sight
of him between her thighs and wondered how she could have lived so long
without having him beside her.

It was like waking up from a bad dream and realising that it had merely
been a dream; that this was reality, the hot, loving lap of Garth's
tongue against her body, the aroused male scent of him, the feel of
him, the. She gave a small gasp as her body started to respond to the
insistent pressure of his mouth against the hot, wet bud of her
clitoris, wave after concentric wave of need building up inside her
towards a crescendo that she knew would. "Garth... Garth, not like
this," she protested.

"I want you inside me...1 want..."
She was almost too late. almost.
All they had time for was the intimacy of Garth's body filling hers, an
urgent, fierce thrust and then another before her sharp, high-pitched
cry broke the silence like the waves of her pleasure breaking inside
her.

"I don't want to move," she confessed to Garth a few minutes later as
she lay beneath him.

"I daren't move," Garth admitted wryly, adding, 'but we'll have to.
because. " As he looked down at her flushed face, he stopped to kiss
her before adding lovingly, " Because the next time I want to love you
in the comfort of a bed "The next time?" Claudia's heart jumped
betrayingly but she said nothing, simply searching his face.

"This isn't a one-off thing, Claudia," he warned her, reading her
unspoken thoughts.

"Not for me and I hope not for you, either. It's not too late for us
to start again."

"To forget the past?" Claudia suggested shakily.
"No." Garth shook his head.
"No, not to forget it, but to build on it, to use what we've learned
from it, to make sure that this time nothing and no one comes between
us or makes us want to part. I've never stopped loving you. Never.
And I don't think that you've stopped loving me, either."

Was he right? Claudia suspected that he could be. Above and beyond
the sex they had just shared, there was something about being with him
that felt so natural and right. So easy. She tried to imagine herself
going home to Ivy House and back to her life without him, and she knew
incontrovertibly, if unexpectedly, that it wasn't a prospect that
pleased her. That right now, for whatever reason, she wanted to be
with him. Because she needed his strength.

"Tara is going to need us both once she knows the truth," Garth told
her, once more reading her mind with such accuracy that she was
silenced, 'and I think that you and I need each other, too. What do
you say, Claudia? Shall we try again? "

"I... I don't know. I need time," she had in tended to say but
instead, to her astonishment, she heard herself saying almost shyly,
"I... I'd like that. Garth. I'd..."

She didn't get any further. Despite his com plaint earlier about his
age and his aching muscles, he lithely sprang to his feet and
immediately lifted Claudia up into his arms.

"Bed is the best place, the only place for this kind of discussion, the
only place for you and me right now," he whispered meaningfully as he
carried her to wards his bedroom door. And as she looked at him, he
promised her, "For tonight, there is no past, no pain, just our new
beginning."

A new beginning? Claudia opened her mouth to remonstrate with him and
to make some mature level-headed, adult response to his roman tic and
plainly famous statement, but then as she looked into his eyes, she
changed her mind and heard herself whispering as adoringly and, no
doubt, as idiotically as a young girl, newly, deeply, drowningly, in
love for the first time, "Oh, Garth, could we?"

It would be different tomorrow, of course; to morrow she would need all
her strength, all her maturity, all her courage, to face Tara and tell
her what she had done. But tonight she badly needed this refuge, this
anodyne, this peace, this loving, to help her to find that strength
along with the wisdom to construct a bridge that would hope fully lead
not just her but, even more importantly, Tara across the chasm that
separated the past from the future as well as the courage to cross over
it.

"I've never stopped loving you," she heard Garth saying passionately to
her as he shouldered open the bedroom door.

"I never have and I never will."

 
 

 

عرض البوم صور Mai Ziyada  
 

مواقع النشر (المفضلة)
facebook




جديد مواضيع قسم الارشيف
أدوات الموضوع
مشاهدة صفحة طباعة الموضوع مشاهدة صفحة طباعة الموضوع
تعليمات المشاركة
لا تستطيع إضافة مواضيع جديدة
لا تستطيع الرد على المواضيع
لا تستطيع إرفاق ملفات
لا تستطيع تعديل مشاركاتك

BB code is متاحة
كود [IMG] متاحة
كود HTML معطلة
Trackbacks are متاحة
Pingbacks are متاحة
Refbacks are متاحة



الساعة الآن 04:33 AM.


 



Powered by vBulletin® Version 3.8.11
Copyright ©2000 - 2024, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd.
SEO by vBSEO 3.3.0 ©2009, Crawlability, Inc.
شبكة ليلاس الثقافية