The Wife Before Me(57)
When did comfort change to passion? A spontaneous surge of desire that was at once familiar, yet thrillingly new. They undressed and lay together, skin on skin, electricity running through their fingers, everything forgotten; all swamped in the tumult of desire. He stayed with her until dawn had lightened the sky. He begged her to come with him to California. She had spent holidays in New York with Leanne and had the necessary documentation. But she remained firm in her decision to stay. Unlike Woodbine, love and passion were transient and she had learned to mistrust the storms of the body. Nicholas would never force her to abandon her home.
* * *
Yvonne arrived at noon with home-made soup and a bowl of mixed salad. She heated the soup and set the table in the conservatory for two. The soup, thick and creamy, smelled delicious. Amelia barely tasted it.
‘You have to start eating properly again.’ Yvonne gazed reproachfully at the bowl. ‘Nicholas is worried about you. That’s why I’m here.’
‘Is he really?’
‘What kind of question is that, Amelia? Obviously, he’s worried. This depression―’
‘I’m not depressed.’ She brought her attention back to her mother-in-law. ‘I’m recovering from a miscarriage and a blow to my head that could have killed me.’
‘If only you’d had the good sense to let Nicholas take care of painting the nursery.’ Yvonne sighed heavily, resignedly.
‘You’ve made that point already, Yvonne. Please, don’t let’s go over it again.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Yvonne patted her knee. ‘I don’t mean to keep reminding you of what you’ve lost.’
‘You’re not reminding me. I remember what I’ve lost every moment of the day.’
‘Well, that’s not good either.’ Joining her fingertips together, Yvonne pointed them towards Amelia like a gun. ‘Sad things happen. We have to put them behind us and move on with our lives.’
Tearful and reproachful when Amelia was discharged from hospital, Yvonne had chided her for being so reckless. What on earth had possessed her daughter-in-law to climb a ladder in her condition? Why take such a risk when it was her responsibility to protect not only herself but her unborn son? ‘Sad experiences teach us hard lessons,’ Yvonne had said. ‘But you’re young and strong. You and Nicholas will move on from this unfortunate event and have a brood of children.’
Tell her… tell her the truth now. End this charade once and for all. The thought had surged through Amelia’s mind but Nicholas’s hand in hers, the warning pressure hurting her fingers, had kept her silent.
Amelia stared out at the garden, where the glass butterflies glinted, their incandescent wings poised in suspended animation. ‘Yvonne, I know you’re anxious to help and I appreciate the food. But now, I just want to be left alone.’
‘I drove over here to oblige Nicholas. But I certainly don’t want to intrude where I’m not wanted.’ Yvonne pursed her lips. Engorged from a recent injection of collagen, they dominated her small face and reminded Amelia of plump garden snails. Hurriedly banishing the image, she attempted to pacify her mother-in-law. ‘I’m tired, that’s all. I told Nicholas not to bother you.’
‘He was anxious about leaving you alone. I promised him I’d have a chat with you, woman to woman.’ Yvonne pulled her chair closer to the table. ‘I’ve had my share of ups and downs in my marriage so I feel qualified to give you some advice. Nicholas loves you, Amelia. He wants to help you to get back on your feet again. Antidepressants are not the way forward and it’s―’
‘I don’t take―’
‘Have you considered counselling? It doesn’t do any harm at certain times to let someone else help us to recover. I know an excellent woman―’
‘I don’t need counselling.’
‘How do you know until you’ve tried it? Unresolved issues can arise during pregnancy and, sadly, also after a miscarriage.’
‘What unresolved issues?’
‘Your father’s death, for instance. Nicholas said you accused him of having that cross you erected on the embankment removed.’
‘Does he always run to his mama when he’s upset?’
‘You’re being rude, Amelia. He’s my son and I can always tell when he’s upset, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. He had nothing to do with the cross’s removal but it suggests to me that you should talk to someone about… well, you know…’ She paused. As always, her carefully bland expression was hard to read but Amelia, her senses painfully attuned to her mother-in-law’s reaction, noticed the speculation in her gaze.
‘Know what?’
‘I’m not trying to upset you, dear. But I need to ask you a very sensitive question. Was your father always kind to you?’
The question oozed across the table towards Amelia. ‘What exactly do you mean?’
‘John drank a lot.’ Yvonne stared at a spot above Amelia’s head, the lift of her eyebrow suggesting she had noticed a cobweb dangling from the wall. ‘He was killed coming home from a pub. The coroner said the alcohol in his system―’
‘My father was walking along a dark road and was knocked down by a hit-and-run driver. How dare you talk about him in that way?’