Two For Joy (60 page)

‘Me?' she said innocently. ‘Sure aren't I committed to finding the man on the periphery of my life? You'll just have to keep me going until he comes along.'

‘OK then,' Oliver agreed, caressing her cheek.

‘Great. Have you any food in the fridge, I'm starving!'

‘Bacon sandwich?' He disentangled himself from her hug and went to the fridge. Heather stood grinning from ear to ear. She felt ridiculously happy.

‘Sounds perfect to me,' she declared.

Oliver turned to look at her and before he knew it she was in his arms again and they were kissing hungrily, tenderly, hungrily again.

Breathless, he drew away from her.

‘Are you sure about this, Heather?' he demanded. ‘Are you very sure?'

‘As sure as I've ever been about anything, Oliver. I think I love you,' she whispered.

‘Oh, Heather, you foolish woman,' he groaned. ‘I'm not the man for you. You need a husband who'll give you children, a family.'

‘Says who?' Heather said crossly. ‘Will you stop your nonsense and take me up to bed. I've only got an hour.'

Oliver stared at her and then he started to laugh. ‘I don't know if I can do it, I've been having a few problems in that area.' His eyes never left her face.

‘Well, we'll never find out standing here.' Heather took him by the hand. ‘Come on, we deserve it.' She smiled at him, happier than she had ever been in her life. He
was
the one for her, she just knew it. Anne Jensen had been right about everything.

‘Did you say you'd been having problems or something?' she inquired innocently an hour later, after she and Oliver had made glorious, lusty, abandoned love, twice.

‘You must have cured me.' He smiled down at her where she was nestled in the curve of his arm, her cheeks bright and flushed, her eyes wide and happy.

‘I was wondering how I would feel making love to someone else, after Neil. Oliver, there was no comparison, I feel completely at home with you. I feel peace, and joy, and I'm bursting with happiness,' she bubbled.

‘I feel the same, love. I feel as if I've known you all my life. It's unbelievable. I never thought I'd be happy again and I am. I'm just worrie—'

She pressed a finger to his lips. ‘Please stop, Oliver. It will be different with me because I know what's what and it's my decision. I love being with you. I love talking to you. Isn't that all that counts at the end of the day?'

‘I suppose you're right, Heather. I'm just afraid you might become unhappy further down the line.'

‘Oliver, what you don't have you don't miss. As long as we can be like we are and have a bit of fun out of life and tease each other until the day we die, I'll be happy.'

‘Will you?' he looked down at her, stroking her cheek with his fingertip.

‘Look what we have! A great bond, a great friendship and a huge affection for each other, even before we had this. Lots of people never experience even one of those things. Look at poor Lorna,' Heather remarked. ‘We're lucky, Oliver.'

‘You're beautiful, Heather. Neil Brennan was a fool. You accept me after what I've told you. You make me feel loved,' he said huskily, his eyes darkening.

‘You
are
loved, Oliver. You're loved very, very much, my darling,' she whispered, hugging him to her with all her strength.

How her grandmother would be pleased for her, she thought joyfully as she stroked her fingers through Oliver's dark hair and sent a prayer of thanks heavenward for sending her the greatest gift of her life.

*   *   *

Oliver watched Heather's car disappear from sight and took a long deep breath. He was overwhelmed. The speed of this beautiful thing that had happened between them had taken him by surprise. He'd made love to her
twice.
And it had been fantastic. There was no pressure, just joy and love and lust. Afterwards they had talked so openly about their feelings. The first time he'd ever done that with a woman. His natural reserve had melted away. He felt free to be himself with her and that was immensely liberating. She knew his deep, sad secret. The thing that had caused him to question his whole essence as a man. It was out in the open between them and it didn't seem to bother her. It was unbelievable. Maybe there was a future for him. Maybe, at last, it was his turn to have some happiness.

His face creased into a smile as he looked up at the sky. Him and Heather Williams. Who would ever have thought it? She'd told him that she loved him and he knew that what he felt for her was completely different to any feelings he'd ever had for any other woman. He felt he'd come home.

He walked into the hall and picked up the phone. He needed to tell Noreen. He wanted to have everything out in the open. It was important that she heard it from him. She answered and he felt a little pang. He wouldn't hurt Noreen for the world. He hoped she wouldn't mind too much.

‘Hi, it's me,' he said with a hint of uncertainty.

‘Hi, Oliver. How's things? Is everything OK?' She sounded cheerful enough. He took a deep breath.

‘Fine … er … Noreen, I … I … think we have a buyer.' He chickened out.

‘Oliver, are you sure about this?' she asked for the umpteenth time.

‘Yes, I'm sure. It's good to sell the house and let the past go. Er … I … I've something else to tell you…'

‘What's that, Oliver?' Noreen asked lightly.

‘I think I've met someone I'd like to have a relationship with,' he said steadily.

There was a long pause.
Speak to me. Say something,
he willed her.

‘Oh … Oh, I see.' He could hear the hurt in her voice and he knew she was thinking the same thing he'd thought.
It didn't take him long to get over me.

‘Do I know her?' she asked.

Oliver cleared his throat. ‘Yes, actually. It's Heather Williams. She was dealing with the sale of the house and we got to know each other. I've told her about … well, you know. She knows the score.'

‘Oh!' He could hear the surprise in her tone. ‘I … I … She's a very nice girl.'

‘Yes, she is, Noreen. I hope eventually you can be happy for me. And I just want you to know that I'll always be here for you. Whatever happens with Heather and me will never change our friendship.'

‘Thanks, Oliver. I am happy for you. It's just a bit of a shock.' He could hear the quiver in her voice.

‘I know. But I wanted to tell you. I didn't want you to hear it from anyone else. And I think with this and selling the house and you having the babies it's a chance to move on and get on with things.'

Noreen gave a little laugh. ‘Oliver, that is so you. Don't hang around wallowing. Get moving, get going, even with the emotions.'

‘That's me, Noreen. I don't think I'll ever change.'

‘No, don't ever change. You're you and I'll always try and remember our happy times. Because we did have happy times, didn't we?' There was a note of pleading in her voice.

‘Yes, Noreen, we did,' he said gently. ‘And we'll have a lot more, just different.'

‘Thanks for phoning, I know it wasn't easy. We'll talk soon,' she paused for a moment and added quickly, ‘And I'm glad it's Heather, I don't think she'll ever hurt you. 'Bye, Oliver.'

‘'Bye,' he said and heard the click of her phone. Oliver gently laid the receiver back in the cradle. That was it. He'd told Noreen. That was the hardest part. It made their split very final. Maybe he needed that, he thought ruefully.

Cora could like it or lump it. He'd been given a second chance and he was going to grab it with both hands. If his mother had problems with it, she'd just have to get over it.

He walked into the kitchen to tidy away their lunch dishes and felt as if a burden had lifted from his shoulders. For the first time that he could remember, Oliver felt carefree and exhilarated.

*   *   *

Noreen looked at the wedding ring on the third finger of her left hand. She still wore it. Her heart twisted with pain. Oliver had found someone else. It hadn't taken long. It hurt.

Was it on the rebound, she wondered. Was Heather someone he could make a go of things with or just someone to tide him over his hard times? Maybe she was on the rebound too after Neil Brennan. They'd been ripe for each other, she thought sadly. It didn't really matter what the reasons were. She and Oliver were finished as a couple. She had to face that.

She slid her ring off her finger. It felt naked. Part of her had subconsciously seen Oliver as her safety net but now he'd pulled that net from under her and was moving on.

Noreen squared her shoulders. He was right. They had to get on with things and it would have been most unfair of her to expect him to live a solitary life. She felt terribly lonely all of a sudden. Hot tears slid down her cheeks.

‘Oh, stop it,' she muttered irritably, annoyed at herself. She was the one who had left the marriage, she was the one who was pregnant with another man's babies. Of course Oliver was entitled to be with someone else. Why was she being so begrudging? Why did she feel so alone?

Her hand slid down to her tummy. Soon enough she'd have two little lives to share her own with and she wouldn't have time to be lonely. Poor Oliver would never have that joy. Heather Williams was a nice girl, not a walking wagon like her cousin. Oliver deserved some happiness in his life; she'd have to try hard not to let feelings of bitterness and hurt eat away at her. She had to take responsibility for her own part in all of this and she was not going to act like a victim, Noreen lectured herself silently.

She slipped her wedding ring into an envelope and put it at the back of a drawer. It was time to let go of the past and look to the future. And a good future it was going to be, Noreen assured herself firmly as she pulled out the ironing board and began to iron her uniform for work.

*   *   *

‘You had sex with Oliver
Flynn
!!!' Ruth's voice rose several octaves and Heather had to hold the phone away from her ear.

‘It wasn't sex, it was
much
more than that,' she emphasized. ‘Oh Ruth, I'm
so
happy.'

‘But when did all this happen? What about the other yoke, do you still have feelings for him?' Ruth was clearly hardly able to believe her ears.

Heather laughed. ‘I wouldn't care if I never saw him again. Remember Gran used to say the only way to get over a man is to find another? She was right. To think Oliver was under my nose and I never realized. He's lovely, Ruth. We have the greatest fun. I'm dying for you to meet him properly.'

‘Are you sure about this?' her twin demanded. ‘How do you know it's not a rebound thing?'

‘I know I never felt like this about Neil, that's for sure,' Heather retorted. ‘You know when you just
know
he's the one? You know when you feel completely comfortable with someone? Isn't that how you feel with Pete?'

‘It sure is,' Ruth agreed.

‘Well, that's how I feel about Oliver. We've got to know each other well the last few weeks when he was selling the house. I love being with him. I love talking to him. I can say anything to him, tell him anything and today we made love and that was the icing on the cake.'

‘So Oliver Flynn was the one on the periphery of your life. Anne Jensen was right! I'm delighted for you, Heather. I'm dying to hear all the ins and outs. I just hope it all works out,' Ruth declared.

‘Me too,' Heather agreed fervently. ‘Better go. I'll see you on Sunday. 'Bye.'

She hung up, smiling, and started the car ignition. She'd just come from an auction and it was the first chance she'd got to give Ruth her momentous news. She and Oliver were going for a walk around the lake later, and she couldn't wait. Who could believe it? Finding someone like Oliver was a miracle. She wanted to make him happier than he'd ever been in his life, because he had made her the happiest woman in the world. Of that there was no doubt.

48

December

Lorna gazed around the customer service mezzanine at Tiffany's, marvelling at its elegance. The flowers were always fresh, the lighting subdued. She never tired of it, and loved it when SW sent her off on errands such as the one she was on today, getting a solid silver photo frame engraved. Tiffany's was jam-packed with early Christmas shoppers and she'd already been here at least half an hour. Sandra had told her to be prepared to wait. Even though it was Friday, her boss had stayed in the office to conduct a particularly thrilling auction between one of her authors and a half a dozen frantic publishers. ‘We're going to hit the million, I just know it,' she'd confided to Lorna as she sat in her cream chair, sipping hot water and lemon, and having a manicure.

It took another twenty minutes before Lorna followed a petite young woman down the dark blue hall and around the corner to the long row of mahogany desks. ‘Desk seven,' the young woman indicated politely. Lorna took her place, half sorry that her errand was nearly complete. She'd had a wonderful morning people-watching.

She dawdled along Fifth Avenue swinging her distinctive duck-egg blue Tiffany bag, in no rush to get back to work. It was one of those perfect, cold, crisp, blue-skied New York days and she was tempted to nip into Sephora and then have coffee and watch the ice skaters in the Rockefeller Center, but reluctantly she nixed the idea. She'd been delayed too long in Tiffany's to skive.

Sandra was radiant when she got back to the office. ‘I've done it, Lorna. I've got Trenton Hawks one million big ones. Now I need you to organize press releases to the trade and media. I want interviews, TV slots. Ring my contacts. Pity about Oprah not doing the Book Club any more, still, we'll never say die. I need you to organize a bottle of Krug for Trenton, ASAP, ditto his editor who stayed the course and paid the bucks. I also need you to send press releases to the UK trade, the
Bookseller
and
Publishing News.
' Sandra's list of instructions went on and on and Lorna's hands flew over her pad trying to keep up. Her heart sank, she'd be working fine and late tonight.