She was well. She had regular appointments with her gynaecologist in Cadiz. Yes, she had visited the maternity unit. And that was it; that was all.
If his phone calls depressed her then his first visit did more than that. He arrived at noon, cool in a loose white cotton shirt, lightweight oyster-coloured trousers. The heat of the summer made her sweat, her hair flop lankily around her face. She felt fat and ugly and didn’t want to see him.
He left when Pilar did, and she curled up on the sofa and cried until she felt sick. She felt as if someone had dug a deep, dark pit, thrown her in and covered her up. She didn’t think she would ever climb out of it again, didn’t think she wanted to.
On his second visit, exactly a month later, he left well before Pilar. The Spanish woman was beside herself with excitement. ‘Señor Nolan is such a good man! See how he cares about you!’ Her black eyes rolled expressively. ‘Sadly, his business takes him so much away. But—‘she could hardly contain herself ‘—last time he say to us he is buying a car. For us. Yesterday it came. A new car, not an old thing. For our own. But for Tomás to drive you wherever you need to go. First he needed to satisfy himself Tomás is safe. That one, I told him, is very safe for driving. Too lazy to drive faster than a snail! One car we had once, in our early days. Then it fell to bits and now the hens live in it in the back yard.’
He was doing his duty. He was good at that. She dreaded his next visit. Next month she would be huger than ever. She hated him seeing her like this. Fat. Dull. Lifeless. Dreaded the polite questions on the state of her health. Was she eating enough? Eating the right things, getting plenty of rest?
He’d brought little snippets of news—very little about what he was doing and where he was doing it, mainly about how well Catherine and Susan were settling in their cottage, digging up the entire garden, apparently, and replanting, haunting sale rooms and antiques shops for just the right pieces of furniture. So he had to have visited Netherhaye, spent some time there.
The two ladies had threatened to fly out to visit her, but, Jed had told her, he had dissuaded them, telling them she was busy on a new book. Was she writing?
Mutely, she had shaken her head. She was doing nothing but managing to get through each day. Sometimes even that seemed too much to cope with.
She knew now, without him having to tell her, that after the birth he would go for divorce. Catherine was back on her feet, had a new life to make in a new home, plenty to keep her occupied. There was no need now to stay married.
Oddly enough, she accepted it, had come to understand him better.
He was nothing if not an honourable man, a man who took duty and responsibility seriously—she only had to witness the care he had extended to her, albeit from a distance, to know that.
A man of his word. He would have nothing but contempt for a wife who consistently presented him with what he could only view as deceit.
He might have loved her once. She knew he had. But he couldn’t stay with her.
Not even for great sex.
Not even for a true and loving heart?
The parcel of tiny baby clothes arrived from England when the winds of early October carried the first hint of autumn chill through the mountains. Elena’s heart came out of deep-freeze.
The parcel had come from Catherine and her mother, and she dialled the number Jed had given her and spoke to them both. It was Catherine who said, ‘I’m glad to hear you’re sounding better. You got me worried, you sounded so flat when we phoned last. I even suggested to Jed when he was over here a few weeks ago that Susan and I might visit and cheer you up. You must be missing him so—I can’t think why he doesn’t make someone else do all these foreign trips.’
‘These lovely things have cheered me up,’ Elena said, and meant it. So far she had done nothing to prepare for her baby.
‘And you remember what we talked about back in early summer? About the way I tended to spoil Sam and why? Well, I did get to have that talk with Jed.’ Catherine gave a fluttery half-laugh. ‘And do you know what he said? He said he’d worked that out for himself, and that it had helped in a certain situation. I can’t think what he meant, and he wouldn’t tell me. Anyway, I’m glad I got it said.’
She knew what he’d meant, Elena thought sadly, after ending the conversation five minutes later. Jed had thought things through. He’d believed what she’d told him about her baby’s conception, accepted that he didn’t come second-best to his brother, accepted that he had no reason to doubt that he came first with her, and always would.
Until what had happened with Liam had changed all that, made him question her integrity all over again, question his own judgement of her character, weigh up the facts as they were known to him and find her wanting.