Savage Awakening(36)

It was all too much, and, excusing herself, Fliss hurried up the stairs  to her room. She wasn't sorry for what she'd done, she told herself  fiercely. Whatever happened, she would never regret being a part of his  recovery. She just wished he could have chosen someone more worthy than  Diane Chesney to love.





CHAPTER SIXTEEN





MATT drove back to Mallon's End in the late afternoon.

He had intended to get away straight after lunch, but Diane's arrival  had delayed him. Her excuse, that she'd come to see his mother, had been  convincing enough, but once they were outside the sickroom the real  purpose of her visit had become clear.

'You can't really mean that you never want to see me again,' she  protested tearfully, following him into his father's study instead of  letting his mother's housekeeper show her out. 'All right. So I made a  mistake. I'm not ashamed to admit it. But I don't love Tony. I love you,  Matt. You can't blame me for turning to Tony when I thought I was never  going to see you again.'

Matt looked up from the pile of mail that had accumulated during his  mother's stay in hospital. It had only been a few days, but it was  amazing how much junk had made its way through her letterbox. 'I don't  blame you, Diane,' he said. However, he couldn't allow her to think that  made any difference. 'I don't even blame Corbett for taking his  chances.'

'Then-'

'I don't love you, Diane. I don't honestly think I ever did. I was  flattered because you sought me out, that's all. It's not every day that  a man's propositioned by a beautiful woman.'

Diane stared at him. 'So what's changed?'

'I have,' he said. 'It's as simple as that. I've decided I want more out of life than you can give me.'

'Like what?'

There was an edge to her voice now, and he knew she was having a hard  time keeping her temper. 'Like a home, and children,' he answered her  evenly. 'And you have to admit that that's something that's never  interested you.'

'I could change.'

'But I don't want you to change,' he retorted mildly. 'Even if you were  prepared to give up your life in London and move to Mallon's End, my  answer would still be the same. I'm sorry but that's the way it is. What  was it you said before? That I should move on? Well, I have.'                       
       
           



       

Diane's lips tightened. 'And I don't suppose your sudden desire to move  on has anything to do with your new housekeeper, does it?' she snapped  angrily.

Matt shrugged. 'Whether it does or not is nothing to do with you.'

'Your mother will never accept her!' she exclaimed scornfully. 'You  should have heard her reaction when I told her Fliss had had a baby when  she was sixteen. She was positively horrified.'

Matt tensed. 'Exactly when did you give her that piece of information?' he demanded. 'She's never said anything about it to me.'

'No, well, I suppose she couldn't,' Diane declared carelessly. 'I spoke  to her on Tuesday evening. She rang me the day after she got back from  Mallon's End. She was worried about you and Fliss Taylor. It must have  been the next day that she had the stroke.'

Matt was stunned. 'You spoke to my mother on Tuesday evening?' he  exclaimed savagely. And when she showed her assent, he wanted to choke  her. 'You bitch,' he said. 'It didn't occur to you that whatever you  said might have upset her? She had the stroke in the early hours of  Wednesday morning, Diane. Just a few hours after you filled her ears  with your jealous lies.'

'They were not lies.' But Diane was looking a little uneasy now. And  typically for her, she tried to turn the blame back on him. 'I told her  the truth, that's all,' she said defensively. 'If you hadn't wanted her  to be upset, you shouldn't have got involved with someone like Fliss.'

'Someone like Fliss!' Matt was furious. 'You know nothing about Fliss,  except what you've gleaned from gossip your mother's spread around. You  shouldn't judge everyone by your own standards, Diane. Just because  you'd sleep with any man who'd be fool enough to ask you, don't ever  imagine Fliss would do the same.'

'Oh, I see.' Diane was spiteful now. 'She's turned you down, too, has  she? Is that what all this sniping is about? Well, I could have told you  you were wasting your time with frigid Miss Taylor. From what I hear,  she must have had a virgin pregnancy.'

Matt was appalled by her comments. Appalled, too, that he could ever  have thought she was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life  with. He had no doubt that if Diane had had her way, the argument would  have continued and become even more virulent. But Mrs Powell, his  mother's housekeeper, had heard raised voices and came to warn them that  they might be disturbing Mrs Quinn.

Matt had no hesitation then about asking Mrs Powell to show-or throw, if  necessary-Miss Chesney out. And after she'd gone, he sat down at his  father's desk and rested his head in his hands. Dear God, he was so  tired of making stupid mistakes.

His mother had heard the raised voices, however, and a few minutes later  Mrs Powell appeared again and asked if he would go up. Naturally she  wanted an explanation, and Matt was relieved that the stroke that had  had him driving madly through the early hours of Wednesday morning had  apparently had no lasting effects. Her brain was as alert as ever, and,  apart from a little residual numbness down her right side, she was  expected to make a full recovery.

In consequence, Matt had no hesitation in assuring her that she should  ignore anything Diane had said about Fliss. Yes, she had had a baby when  she was sixteen, but that didn't make her a bad person. She'd made a  mistake and she'd paid for it. But she was a good mother and she didn't  have a reputation for sleeping around.

'So she has a child,' his mother said at last, and Matt found himself talking about Amy.

'She's a great kid,' he said. 'You'll love her, Ma, when you get to know her.'

'I am going to get to know her, then?' Mrs Quinn ventured drily, and  Matt had had to admit that that was in the balance. Until he could see  Fliss again, until he could speak to her, he didn't know what was  happening. All he really knew was that he cared about her, deeply; that  she'd helped him believe in himself again.

Now, as he neared the junction that would eventually lead to Mallon's  End, Matt wished he could have spoken to Fliss herself. He'd had to  leave a note pinned to the door for Albert Freeman. The tradesman had  been due to start work the next day and Matt had left a key for him to  find. He'd attached a note for him to give to Fliss, but he didn't know  if she'd got it. Both times he'd phoned he'd got her father, and,  despite the fact that he'd thought they'd ironed out their differences,  George Taylor still gave off hostile vibrations.                       
       
           



       

Perhaps he should have confided in her father, told him the real reason  he'd gone to London, but his experiences with the Press had left him  chary of confiding in anyone. He didn't want to read about his mother's  stroke in the next edition of the tabloids. She definitely wouldn't like  it and he had to respect her privacy. Even if it meant suffering the  pangs of anxiety for a few more days …



Fliss was in the front garden when the big Land Cruiser stopped at the  gate. It was a warm, sunny evening, and she'd been thinning out some  stocks that had become rank and overgrown. She got to her feet in some  confusion when Matt pushed his way through the gate.

She hadn't known if she would see him again. Even though she'd told  herself that he wouldn't waste money doing up the house if he had  intended to sell it, the doubts remained. Her father seemed fairly  convinced that they'd seen the back of him, but he had been acting antsy  lately and she didn't know what was going on.

'Hi,' Matt said, allowing the gate to swing closed behind him. Then, almost awkwardly, 'You look busy.'

As an opening, it was as good as any, she supposed, tucking damp strands  of hair back behind her ears. He could as easily have said hot, she  reflected. She was hot, and sweaty, and definitely not prepared for  their encounter however much she'd wanted to see him again.

Matt, meanwhile, looked good. No, better than good, she amended  unwillingly. And so much better than he'd looked when she'd first seen  him talking to Amy. He was dressed more formally than she was used to,  his navy silk suit and pale blue shirt accentuating his cool elegance.  He'd loosened his tie and the top button of his shirt, but that only  added to his appeal. As always, he exuded a raw male sexuality that  stirred emotions deep in her belly, and she acknowledged that he had  proved far more dangerous to her peace of mind than she could ever have  imagined.

Deciding to take her cue from him, Fliss smoothed the hem of the old  cropped T-shirt she was wearing, wishing she'd taken Amy's advice and  dumped the thing weeks ago. 'Um-have you just got back?'