'He wanted to, but your mother was very clever in using any weakness as a weapon,' Linda said a trifle bitterly. 'Added to which he wasn't a man who could show affection easily, and he was consumed by guilt most of the time. He felt he was being unfair to you, to me, and, of course, to your mother. I finished with him several times—for his sake, not mine,' Linda added quickly, 'but we couldn't live without each other; it was as simple as that. And Coral didn't actually mind.' Linda's voice reflected her amazement. 'As long as he remained her husband in name and allowed her to live as she chose. In fact, she almost encouraged our liaison.'
'I know.' Victoria nodded, remembering all her mother had said.
'Once Coral had sent you away to school he spent most of his time here,' Linda said quietly. 'And then…he was gone, along with all the plans we had made for the future.'
'And you've never met anyone else?' Victoria asked slowly, her heart going out to the gentle, softly spoken woman in front of her who was the very antithesis of Coral.
'I've never wanted to.' Linda smiled a sad smile, 'He was the only one for me, and I know I was the only one for him. We were utterly faithful to each other. It happens like that sometimes.'
'It happens like that sometimes.'
The first lazy fat snowflakes were beginning to fall out of the laden sky as Victoria waved goodbye to Linda later that afternoon and stepped into the taxi the other woman had ordered for her, her head spinning with all she had been told.
'It happens like that sometimes.' She couldn't get the refrain out of her head. She felt as emotionally drained as if she had been caught up in some terrible tragedy, but then she had in a way, she told herself silently as the taxi sped along the fast whitening roads. An old tragedy, but a tragedy nevertheless, which had affected everyone who'd played a part Her father's entrapment in a loveless marriage and his ongoing guilt and pain and confusion had touc
hed all of them, but most of all her, as she had struggled to make sense of an adult world she couldn't comprehend. But that was the past, and she understood better now…
The niggling ache in the small of her back that had started first thing that morning was getting worse, along with the snow which was now coming down in a feathery white curtain. It was beautiful, Victoria thought wonderingly. And life was beautiful—it was. And she didn't want to miss out on it. Her father had been capable of love; in his own way he had been faithful to Linda from the moment he met her because he loved her. His mistake had been in marrying the wrong woman, she realised with a thudding heart.
And had she married the wrong man?
The taxi driver swore as two small children muffled up to the eyeballs threw a snowball at his cab, but Victoria didn't even hear him, a missile of gigantic proportions crashing into her consciousness. Zac was her 'sometimes'.
She loved Zac with all her heart, and she believed he loved her in the same way. Her father, cold and remote as he had been, had loved Linda Ward almost to the exclusion of anything—or anyone—else, his frustration at not being able to live with the woman he loved gnawing away at him until he had died prematurely. He hadn't played the field, he hadn't gone from one affair to another…
Zac had wanted to take care of her all along, even when she had rejected him for the second time. He had been prepared to wait for her, playing a part in her life and his child's until she grew to trust him; she saw that now. She saw it.
Or was she fooling herself because she so wanted to believe what her heart was telling her? Her stomach turned over and all the old doubts reared their heads before she took a deep breath, staring out of the car window at the thick curtain of snow falling from a white-grey sky, the faint golden glow from the streetlamps barely making an impression in the fading light.
She loved Zac. She was her father's daughter, not her mother's, and she loved him. Her father had made a terrible mistake in marrying the wrong woman, but her mistake would be a hundred times worse than that if she let the right man go because of her cowardice. And that was what it boiled down to. She was frightened of opening the door and allowing Zac free entry, frightened of the power it would give him and her own vulnerability. But if he loved her as she loved him he was in the same position, wasn't he? It worked both ways. There was no get-out clause.
She continued to chew at the dilemma all the way home, shifting in her seat as the ache in her back grew more uncomfortable and began to make her feel slightly nauseous.
It was just after four when the taxi drew into the drive, and before it had even drawn to a halt Zac was there, his face thunderous as he wrenched open the door. 'Where the hell have you been?' She couldn't remember ever seeing him so angry. 'Where the hell have you been?' he repeated furiously, his eyes flashing.
'I've been to see someone.' Victoria stared at her husband in amazement. 'What on earth is the matter?'
'I popped home lunchtime to see how you were,' he bit out savagely, 'and Mrs Watts didn't have a clue where you were.'
'You popped home…' And then she recalled his telephone call earlier that day, and immediately felt horribly guilty. 'But you said you wouldn't be home till five. Oh, I'm sorry, Zac, really.'
As the taxi driver joined Zac on the drive and received a ferocious glare for his pains, he clearly thought he ought to make his position clear. 'Nothin' to do with me, mate,' he said cheerily, 'although I thought it was a bit strange she was gallivantin' on a day like this in her condition. Still, that's women for you. My missus is the same.'
Zac wasn't interested in the taxi driver's 'missus' and said so, softening his testiness with a handsome tip that sent the man away happy with a merry toot of his horn.
He said not another word as he helped Victoria over the snow and into the house, but immediately he closed the front door behind them his simmering rage bubbled over again.
'I've called everyone we know—and the hospital— since lunchtime,' he said tightly. 'I've even had William phoning round.'
'William?'
She stared at him in amazement, and his snarl of, 'Yes, William,' was not reassuring as he took her elbow and steered her into the drawing room, his face still dark with temper.
'I called to see if you'd gone round there, and he thought he might know a few folk I didn't,' Zac said in a low sort of growl. 'The guy was as worried as me, so you'd better call him in a minute and put his mind at ease.'
'I will.' He must have been worried to ask for William's help.
'But not before you tell me what was so important that you high-tail it on a day like this,' he grated.