Hate to Love You(54)
Francesca took a deep, slow breath. “That is because I took measures to ensure my son never forgot who you are.”
Measures? “What the f—hell does that mean?”
“James is a man of honour,” Francesca said, placing emphasis on the word’s second syllable. “He was concerned about you after he came back from his honeymoon. Once his anger cooled he regretted banning you from Ryan’s life and talked of allowing you to see him if you came to London. Can you imagine my horror? I had to protect him from your influence.”
The only reason I didn’t shake her within an inch of her life was because Tarzan attached his arm around mine like a manacle. “What did you do? Tell me, damn it!”
She looked me straight in the eyes. “I never told James of your visits to London.”
“But he must have known,” I said, shaking my head. “I left him those notes with the butler and—”
My outpour was stifled by the guilty look in Francesca’s eyes. A tiny sliver, gone the second she reminded herself I didn’t deserve her remorse. But it had been enough to read what had happened. She had shredded my emotional, distraught notes without a second thought. And when James asked if I’d come to Matham Manor she had lied, keeping him away from the teenage addict who had single-handedly destroyed his wedding and humiliated him in front of his guests—and the world.#p#分页标题#e#
And I couldn’t even blame her for it.
Feeling faint, I took slow, measured breaths and looked across Hampstead Heath, seeing another girl, another time. The bench where I’d sat the last time I’d come, oblivious to the rain, was still there. How I had stared at the money in my tattered backpack! Stared and stared while I shook with rage and sorrow.
I had repeated the words in the note Francesca’s butler had handed me until rain and tears had washed the ink away.
I guess I should have shredded the money accompanying his note, or gifted it to charity, but that moral cliff had been too high for my reach. Alone and penniless, I had used it to finish my secretarial course, move to Valencia and escape from Paisley Benton and everything that had happened to her.
I studied Francesca as she was studying me. What she’d said explained a lot, but something wasn’t adding up. “I’ve been writing to James for years, so he must know that you lied.”
She glanced at Tarzan, as if reluctant to speak in front of him. “I told James your letters were in keeping with your character and convinced him it was best that I dealt with all of your future communications. If there was a change in your attitude, I said I would tell him.”
I was speechless, wondering if I should check her forehead for horns and her arse for a devil’s tail, ’cause Francesca could use her master’s degree in Evil Bitch to teach Caroline a thing or two. But maybe...
“Have you told James the truth about my visits?” I asked, and held my breath.
“No,” she said, then fixed me with a steely look. “And neither will you if you want my help.”
I opened my mouth and Tarzan jumped in before I could let loose. “What Francesca proposes is fair, don’t you think...sugar?”
I wanted to stomp on his foot, but of course, he was right. Much as I wanted to tear into Francesca, the important thing was to play nice as Marcia had said. She was, after all, willing to help me.
“I won’t tell him what you did,” I agreed, but oh, how it cost me.
Francesca took out a sleek leather wallet and handed me a business card. “Make an appointment for testing tomorrow morning and ask them to bill me. If you are telling the truth I will telephone you. Now you must leave, before James gets here. Do not approach my grandson without my permission or I’ll forget this conversation and inform the police you violated the restraining order today.”
Whatever it takes, I reminded myself, watching her stiff, elegant back as she walked away. My shoulders slumped and I sagged into Tarzan’s wiry chest. I felt like an emotional multiple choice questionnaire. I could tick anger straight away. Another few ticks for remorse and guilt. Then there was hope and an odd sense of pleasure from knowing that James hadn’t been totally detached towards me despite what I’d done to him. And then anger again. Full circle.