Jennifer Taylor - Rachel's Child

They walked like that for several minutes, neither speaking, Stephen watching her with long sideways looks she couldn’t help but notice. Then suddenly she stopped, her brown eyes stormy as she turned to face him.

‘What do you want?’

She had a soft voice, sweet and musical, despite the annoyance which touched it. Stephen felt a small thrill of pleasure that it should so exactly match his expectations. He gave her a slow smile, his eyes glittering with an appreciation she’d have needed to be blind not to see.

‘You.’

For a moment she appeared dumbstruck, then suddenly laughed with genuine amusement. It surprised him because he’d half expected some frosty response, had almost been looking forward to overcoming any initial resistance she might show. But obviously she didn’t intend to play the game the way he had planned it.

‘Mmm, so what do you want me to say to that, I wonder?’ She chewed her lower lip, delicate white teeth showing against a soft red mouth which bore no trace of lipstick. She tilted her head to one side so that her hair swung over her shoulder, the fine strands glittering like spun gold in the sunlight.

Stephen felt his palms dampen. He looked away, afraid of what might be on his face right then, faintly shocked by his own reaction. He was popular with the girls—in the town and beyond—his dark good looks and confidence a potent combination he had long since learned to use to full advantage. Yet right at that moment he felt gauche and inexperienced. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

‘Well, come along, tell me. You’ve followed me all this way down the beach so you may as well.’

Sudden laughter touched Stephen’s mouth as his confidence surged back, but he knew enough not to grab too greedily at the small advantage. He merely raised both brows in an expression which was both quizzical and knowing.

‘How do you know how far I’ve followed you?’ His deep voice hummed with meaning. The girl gasped, her hand covering her mouth for a second before she let it fall to her side and laughed again, slightly ruefully this time.

‘Well, I did just happen to notice you...’

Stephen laughed at the admission as well, overwhelmed by a sense of well being. He looked back along the beach, deliberately measuring the distance to where Robert was lying. ‘Then all things considered maybe we should introduce ourselves. I’m Stephen Hunter.’

‘Rachel Harris.’ She held her hand out to him in a gesture which was unexpected and strangely touching.

Stephen took it, feeling the coolness of her flesh, the way her slender fingers barely filled his far larger palm. When she drew her hand away he felt a sense of loss which stunned him. He hastened to disguise it as Rachel started to speak.

‘Well, I really must go.’

She began to edge away and Stephen realised he was going to miss his chance if he didn’t get his act together. Yet, strangely, the last thing he wanted was to go through the routine he had used so often and so effectively in the past.

Impulsively he caught Rachel’s arm, then let her go when she glanced down with a cool hauteur which brought the colour to his face and a tightness to his voice.

‘How about letting me buy you a drink?’ He nodded towards the refreshment stand further along the beach. ‘A Coke sounds good to me on a day like today.’

‘I’m sorry, I really can’t. I have to go. Some other time, perhaps.’

She was already walking away before she had even finished speaking, the polite words more a dismissal than a real statement of regret. Stephen watched her striding along the beach, the sun in her hair, the breeze catching her dress, and knew there and then that he wanted to see her again. Frankly, he couldn’t recall ever wanting anything so much...!

‘Here we are. I’m sorry it’s only instant. Aunt Edith never drinks...drank anything else.’

Rachel came in with the tray, pausing when Stephen stared blankly at her before he put down whatever he had been holding. He turned to take off his overcoat and she wondered if she had imagined the expression on his face.

She set the tray down on the small table in front of the sofa and handed him a cup, spilling a little coffee into the saucer when Stephen’s fingers brushed hers as he took it from her.

‘Thank you.’

Stephen’s voice grated, resonant with something which made Rachel’s heart leap, perhaps a reflection of what she thought she had seen on his face just now. Yet when she chanced another look at him there was nothing but coldness in his eyes.

Rachel sipped her own coffee, feeling the hot sting of tears behind her lids. What a fool she was to look for something which had died a long time ago. Stephen felt nothing for her now, nothing at all!

She took a deep breath, disguising the pain beneath a veneer of politeness. ‘So, how have you been? Obviously life has treated you well, Stephen.’

Stephen settled back in the chair and crossed one long leg over the other, a cynical smile touching his mouth. ‘If you mean am I a rich man now, Rachel, then the answer is yes. I can honestly say that I have more money than I really know what to do with.’

His tone was mocking; it brought a sudden heat to her cheeks. Rachel set her cup down, her eyes blazing. ‘That wasn’t what I asked! Frankly, I don’t give a damn whether or not you’re rich as Croesus, Stephen. Life doesn’t revolve around money, and if you haven’t discovered that yet then pity help you!’

There was a moment’s silence before Stephen replied, his tone less abrasive. ‘I apologise. Let me answer your question the way you meant it to be answered, then. I have achieved all I set out to and probably more than I’d hoped, but it hasn’t been easy. There have been failures to set against the successes, including a marriage which ended in divorce.’

Rachel felt the shock ripple through her in small waves and looked down at her hands. ‘I...I didn’t know that you’d been married.’

‘Why should you? We went our separate ways many years ago, Rachel. Why should you know anything about what has happened to me since? And it’s obvious that I know very little about what has happened to you!’

Stephen raised his cup, noticing in surprise that his hand was trembling. He took a sip of the coffee then set the cup down on the table, not enjoying the fact that Rachel could still affect him in any way at all. ‘So, tell me, are you married?’

She shook her head, her pale hair shimmering as it caught the light from the old glass fitment overhead. ‘No, I’ve never been married.’

‘Why not?’ He shrugged lightly enough but his gaze was searching. ‘Surely you must know that the last thing Robert would have wanted was for you to waste your life grieving for him?’

God, how the lies grew and demanded more! Rachel’s hands tightened on the soft cord of her trousers, her fingers cold as ice. ‘Maybe I just never found anyone to...to match up to him.’

Stephen felt the pain of that statement like a physical blow. His voice was hard and uncompromising with the effort not to show how he felt. ‘I see. A touching tribute to my cousin, indeed. I must say, Rachel, that I never suspected how you and Robert felt at the time—although, thinking about it in the light of recent revelations, I suppose there were signs if I had taken the trouble to read them properly.’

‘What do you mean?’ Rachel stared at him in confusion.

He gave a soft laugh which made a shiver dance down her spine because it reminded her for a moment of how Stephen had used to laugh. But when she looked at him there was no hint of genuine amusement in his glittering eyes, little trace of the Stephen she had once loved so desperately.

‘Oh, small things which seemed insignificant at the time, like the way you and Robert used to laugh together over some magazine story or other.’ Stephen smiled narrowly, studying her with an almost clinical detachment. ‘You and he always did share the same off-beat sense of humour, didn’t you, Rachel, the same sense of the ridiculous? I used to be pleased that you and Robert got on so well. Only, apparently, it wasn’t quite so innocent as it seemed! However, I don’t blame Robert for what happened. He was undoubtedly as taken in as I was.