Catherine O'Connor - On Equal Terms

‘I can manage,’ she said. She wanted to be strong, to show him she could now do without him. She had changed in the last two years, had become self-sufficient. Had it not been for the unfortunate car accident, he would have never found her. She had a new life, and she had learned to cope, to accept the fact that she was no longer welcome in her childhood home. It had been hard but she had managed—without Sebastian’s help, without anyone’s help. Kate swallowed, trying to rid herself of any bitterness. It would do no one any good. Besides, she was home now; perhaps her father would finally accept her back into the fold. She sat up, pushing the crisp, warm sheets from her body. Her eyes dropped to her legs. How thin they looked. Had she lost that much weight? she mused momentarily, before urging her body upwards. She swayed slightly as she got up, the after-effects of the accident making her unsteady. Sebastian reacted quickly, instantly at her side, his arm offering an unwelcome support Kate pulled away. It was all his fault She was here, back at home, with no sign of her father. Sebastian had been wrong to bring her home; she had not been forgiven.

‘Leave me alone,’ she ground out at him through clenched teeth. The knowledge that her father hadn’t come to see her hurt her more than she cared to admit. Sebastian’s face darkened at her words, but he remained silent, viewing her with such cold contempt that Kate felt chilled to the bone, the heat of her temper evaporating under his steely gaze.

‘I don’t want or need your help,’ she scoffed.

‘Don’t you?’ Sebastian questioned, with an amused raise of his eyebrows as Kate’s body swayed slightly again.

‘No,’ Kate snapped back, but too soon; her legs suddenly gave way and, had it not been for Sebastian’s quick actions, she certainly would have fallen to the floor.

‘Kate!’ he admonished, his voice gruff and strangely at odds with the concern that flickered in his face. He swept her hair from her face, the rough hairs on the back of his hand rubbing against the smooth, soft skin of her cheeks. Kate felt an immediate rush of heat. His touch still held the same potent magic for her and the realisation made her feel dangerously vulnerable.

‘I’m all right,’ she said. She made her voice sound strong, hoping that it sounded like a statement when in fact it was a plea for survival. She was already weakening. Her female instincts seemed determined to betray her. She pushed her hand against his hard chest. It was a futile gesture, like hitting a brick wall. Her hand made no impact on his muscular frame. She stood up, moving away from him, aware of his growing impatience.

She willed her weak legs to support her as she made her way tentatively to the bathroom. She slammed the door behind her, shutting Sebastian out, then she leant back on it, desperate for the solid support it could offer her. Her shoulders sagged with the weight of despair and her knees buckled with fatigue. She didn’t want Sebastian’s pity, his brotherly concern, yet it was all he was willing to offer her. The realisation that she was still vulnerable to him made her angry.

She slipped out of her over-sized nightshirt and stepped cautiously into the bath. It was wonderful; the hot water, made silky-soft with delicately scented oils, lapped against her aching body, slowly massaging away her physical pains. But her lonely heart still ached. Nothing had really changed. She breathed deeply, inhaling the heavenly fragrance. The sweet smell of summer flowers made her mind drift back to happier times, as if drawn by a hidden power source that she was too weak to fight.

SHE was a young girl again, lying in the meadow, the summer grass high; the wild flowers were in glorious abundance, shooting up between the verdant green. The sun was a brilliant yellow disc of heat, burning on to her bare legs as she lay day-dreaming, heedless of everything except the fact that Sebastian was coming home. It had been months since she had seen him and the separation had been almost unbearable. He had been in America, working on Wall Street, but he had now returned to England, still working in commodities on the Stock Exchange. He came home only at weekends, keeping a penthouse flat in London for the week. Kate longed for those weekends, hating Sunday evenings, when he drove away, leaving her for another week.

She hadn’t heard him approach and at first she took no notice of the tickling grass that played across her cheeks; she felt lazy; it was too hot to move. Finally, as her hand attempted for the tenth time to brush the offending grass away, she reluctantly opened her eyes. It was like a dream, as if she had thought about him so much that he had suddenly materialised before her! He was leaning over her, his face tantalisingly close, and she lifted herself up closer to him, instinctively placing her soft, warm lips on his, kissing him with sweet innocence.

‘Kate!’ He laughed. She could still hear it now, echoing through her mind, teasing, mocking, cutting into her heart. He had not been offended or perturbed—or even aroused, she added to herself ruefully. To him, she was still a child. He had been blissfully unaware of the changes her body had been going through, while she had watched her growing development with daily interest, hoping with each swell of her tender young breasts that Sebastian would finally see her as a woman…

Kate slipped deeper into the soapy water till the water splashed up against her cheeks. How hard she had tried to become the woman Sebastian wanted, copying the looks and styles of the women-friends he had. That innocent kiss had been the first of many attempts to capture his attention, but it had all been in vain; all Kate had managed to arouse was her stepmother’s wrath and her father’s disapproval. She could still hear Clare’s voice ringing in her ears.

‘Really, Kate, you should leave Sebastian alone. Find friends of your own age,’ her stepmother had complained on numerous occasions, but Kate had ignored her, always ignored her.

‘I don’t want friends of my own age,’ she had retorted frostily, hating Clare for interfering.

‘Clare’s right, Kate. Why not invite some of your own friends home?’ Her father had supported his new wife, which had hurt Kate deeply.

‘Clare is right, Clare is right,’ she’d mimicked back. ‘Isn’t she always?’ she’d added bitterly. ‘As for bringing friends home, I haven’t a home any more—not since she came.’

Clare had flinched at her words but remained silent.

‘Really, Kate!’ admonished her father. ‘There’s no need to be rude.’

‘I’m going out,’ Kate had snapped back, heedless of his opinion and slamming the door as she left It had been a scene played out many times, till Kate had felt trapped in the role and unable to escape.

The thought of her parents made Kate begin to scrub at her body with the coarse loofah, as if in an attempt to rub out the past. She knew that was impossible; all her attempts to make amends had been disregarded. She was back home now—soon, perhaps, she would see her father again. The thought of being reconciled made her heart leap with sudden joy.

She stayed in the bath till the water chilled. She wanted to be alone to try and sort out her feelings. Eventually, however, she got out, wrapping a warmed fluffy towel about her body. Wiping the condensation from the mirror, she stared blankly at her reflection. She pushed damp tendrils of hair from her face and moved closer, peering at the dull image of her face. She was pale, her eyes lifeless, with dark rings brought on by a poor diet and lack of sleep. They were swollen and bruised as a result of the accident. Tentatively she raised her hand, touching her face gently, moving her fingers lightly over her eyes, and flinching at the pain that even the gentlest of touches caused. She rubbed at her forehead wearily. Her head still ached and she couldn’t remember quite what had happened—it all seemed so unreal, like a bad dream.