Memories of The Past (Presents Plus) Page 5
‘And he doesn’t agree?’ Helen said softly.
‘Well of course he doesn’t!’ her father snapped.
Helen shrugged. ‘But maybe they do have a point, maybe Sam would be better off with them—’
‘You know something, Helen,’ her father cut in with cold anger, ‘I sometimes wonder if you can possibly be my daughter after all.’ He turned and strode furiously from the room.
Helen looked after him with dismay; her father had never spoken to her with that flat disappointment in his voice before.
CHAPTER FIVE
DAMN Caleb Jones and the trouble he was causing Helen!
By the time morning came, following that disagreement with her father over the custody of Sam, Helen had decided it was all Caleb Jones’s fault. If he weren’t their intrusive neighbour now, none of last night’s conversation would have taken place. Certainly she and her father would never have argued in that way.
She knew her father was still displeased with her when she came downstairs to find a brief note in the kitchen from him telling her he had gone to the golf-course for the day. Normally he would have asked her to go with him, but obviously he was still so disgusted with her that he didn’t even want to be in her company.
She still couldn’t see what was so wrong about her comment that perhaps Sam would be better off with his grandparents. Obviously Cal was a friend of her father’s, and his loyalty lay with the other man, but surely Sam’s grandparents couldn’t be such ogres that they shouldn’t be considered even more suitable as stand-in parents for Sam rather than a man on his own. Especially when that man was as rakishly good-looking as Cal Jones was; poor Sam could live the rest of his life having a succession of ‘aunties’!
Nevertheless, she could understand her father’s sympathy with the other man’s feelings, and cursed herself for being so insensitive. Hopefully her father would have mellowed after a day playing golf, and would be willing to accept her apology. Although she wouldn’t count on it; her father could be more stubborn than her on occasion. That was where she had got that stubborn streak from in the first place!
As an added apology Helen prepared a curry ready for their dinner later in the day, knowing it was one of her father’s favourite meals, but at the same time one he very rarely bothered to make just for himself. He would know the meal was something of a peace-offering, but that didn’t matter.
The curry was bubbling away nicely when the telephone rang, and she groaned as she moved to answer it; it was just like her father to realise what she would do and be ringing to tell her he was out to dinner!
‘Good morning, Helen,’ Cal Jones’s deeply attractive voice greeted confidently. ‘Could I speak to your father, please?’
Helen frowned her agitation with having to talk to this man who was starting to become a permanent thorn in her side. ‘I’m afraid he isn’t here,’ she said with a certain amount of satisfaction.
‘Oh, damn,’ she heard him mutter distractedly.
‘Is there something wrong?’ Helen couldn’t help her curiosity.
‘No, not really—Hell, yes,’ he amended with a groan. ‘I’m determined to have this thing out with Sam’s grandparents once and for all, and I didn’t want Sam around while we did it. He’s very sensitive to the atmosphere which exists between the three of us, which was another reason I decided to make myself scarce last night,’ he added grimly, and Helen could clearly picture the worry on that handsome face. ‘He and your father get on really well together, and I was going to ask David if he would mind having Sam for the afternoon.’
‘I’ll have him,’ Helen heard herself say, instantly wanting to retract the statement, opening her mouth to do so. But the words wouldn’t come, her tongue seeming to be stuck to the roof of her mouth.
The last thing she wanted was to be in the company of that mischievously beautiful child for any length of time. But the words of denial still wouldn’t come, even though she could feel her own panic rising within her.
‘I couldn’t put on you like that.’ Cal’s frown could be heard in his voice.
Now was the time to agree with him, to give the impression her offer had only been made out of politeness!
But the words seemed to be stuck in her throat. ‘You wouldn’t be putting on me,’ she told him briskly, all the time her brain screaming at her to agree with him, anything to keep her from having to spend time with the baby. ‘I have the afternoon free anyway,’ she heard herself add persuasively.
‘If you’re sure…?’
Of course she wasn’t sure; she didn’t want to look after Sam!
‘I’m sure,’ she said firmly. ‘I’ll come over and get him around two o’clock, if that’s OK?’
‘I could drive him over for you,’ Cal offered, still sounding distracted.
‘No, I’ll come and pick him up, I might take him shopping straight after that.’ What on earth was she doing? It was bad enough that she had offered to look after Sam at all, but she didn’t have to add to the mistake by appearing in public with a baby that would be taken as her own as she walked along with him in his pushchair!
‘OK, two o’clock, then. I really do appreciate this, Helen,’ Cal added warmly.
She didn’t want his gratitude, for goodness’ sake—didn’t want to be looking after Sam at all.
She was shaking as she replaced the telephone after saying goodbye to Cal. Sam to look after all afternoon… What had she been thinking of? She hadn’t been thinking at all! At least, nothing that had passed from her brain to her tongue.
What was she going to do with a year-old baby for the afternoon?
Oh, this was ridiculous; she should just ring Cal back and tell him she had made a mistake, that she had something else to do this afternoon after all. But pride wouldn’t let her do that, to telephone Cal and give the impression she was incapable of looking after Sam. Even if, emotionally, that was just how she felt.
She was too upset to eat any lunch, had almost burnt the curry by leaving it on too high a heat rather than letting the flavour be enhanced by leaving it to gently simmer, and she left the house to collect Sam with the feeling of a heavy weight having been put on her shoulders.
Her trepidation grew as she drove nearer to the manor house, vaguely noticing the improvements Cal had made to the garden since he had taken over the estate, her feet crunching on the gravel as she got out of the car.
‘Helen!’
She turned guiltily, having almost given in to the temptation to get back in her car and drive off again, afraid that emotion might show in her face as she turned to look at Cal striding across the lawn towards her, Sam held in his arms.
She was struck once again by the likeness between the two of them, the same coal-black hair, the same navy-blue eyes, even their smiles similar as Sam laughed up into his uncle’s face, his eyes glowing with good health—and mischief. He wasn’t the sort of little boy who would ever be cowed by anything, completely happy in his environment. Which somehow made it all the more poignant that he didn’t have his parents to share in his happiness. What a lot of pleasure this little boy would have brought into his parents’ lives; she could see why Cal was loath to part with him. But at the same time, whatever decisions were made had to be in Sam’s favour, and no one else’s. And she was sure Cal was all too aware of that, which might, or might not, explain his strain over the situation.
‘Two o’clock, as requested,’ she said in a stilted voice.
Cal looked at her searchingly. ‘You’re sure you want to do this? Sam is usually good, but nevertheless it’s an imposition,’ he grimaced.
She was no more sure now than she had been this morning when she had so recklessly agreed to take care of Sam, but it was far too late to change her mind now.
‘I have to go into town shopping anyway,’ she dismissed carelessly—hoping her own strain wasn’t too obvious. ‘I can do that just as easily with Sam as without him.’ Although she very much doubted that was true—a pushchair was an encumbrance few mothers managed
to overcome!
‘Shide, Unc Cal,’ Sam cried excitedly.
‘When you get back,’ Cal told him indulgently. ‘We were playing on the slide beside the house when you arrived,’ he explained to Helen.
‘Shide gen, Unc Cal,’ Sam repeated mutinously.
‘I’ll take him back on the slide while you get his pushchair—and anything else you think I might need this afternoon,’ Helen added heavily, holding out her arms for Sam. To her surprise he came to her without hesitation.
Cal gave a rueful smile. ‘I hate to sound depressing, but he’ll go to anyone who will take him on the slide!’
‘Thanks!’ she grimaced, turning to walk towards the side of the house.
Sam felt just as soft and cuddly as the last time she had held him, with that uniquely baby smell that was so unmistakable.
It was impossible not to join in his joy as he came down the tiny slide that had been erected in part of the garden obviously fenced off just for Sam’s use, a sand-pit and small swing also available for his pleasure, although the slide was obviously his favourite as he went down it time and time again, with help from her to get up the two steps to the top of the slide.
‘Enjoying yourself, Sam?’
Helen turned with widened eyes, the male voice not a familiar one to her, although it was obvious as she looked at the middle-aged couple who had come to stand outside the fenced-off area that this must be Sam’s grandparents. Sam bore no likeness to either the short balding man or the taller blonde-haired woman, but nevertheless Helen didn’t think they could be anyone else.
‘I don’t think he should be on that slide, Henry,’ the woman said waspishly. ‘He could fall and hurt himself.’
The likelihood of Sam’s doing that seemed very remote to Helen, the slide only a couple of feet high, with the soft landing of lush grass if he should topple over. Although with someone having to help him up the steps in the first place this seemed highly unlikely at all.
‘I doubt that, dear,’ the man replied drily, giving Helen a friendly smile. ‘I’m sorry, we haven’t introduced ourselves. I’m Henry Carter, and this is my wife, Enid. We’re Sam’s grandparents.’
‘I’m Helen Foster, a—a friend of Cal’s.’ She had been going to say ‘a neighbour’ of Cal’s, but considering she was taking this couple’s grandson off for the afternoon she thought she ought to at least be a friend of the family!
‘Are you—?’
‘Enid, Henry, I wondered where you had got to!’ Cal strode across the lawn towards them all, his voice light, although his tone was belied by the worried expression in his eyes as he looked at them searchingly. ‘Have you all introduced yourselves?’ He arched questioning brows as he joined them.
‘Yes, thank you.’ Enid Carter spoke tartly, her back ramrod straight. ‘Sam, come down off that slide at once,’ she instructed the little boy as Helen helped him up the steps once again.
Sam hesitated for a moment, his expression one of confusion, before his eyes filled up with tears and he held out his arms towards Helen to be picked up, burying his face in her neck to hide the tears, his little body shaking with the emotion.
Helen looked at Cal for support, not in any position to deal with the older woman herself, but feeling the injustice of the instruction on Sam’s behalf. There was sensible protection of a small child, and over-protection, and it seemed to her that Enid Carter was indulging in the latter. But that wasn’t for her to say so.
Cal looked at Helen, speaking volumes with his eyes. ‘I’ve put the pushchair and a few of Sam’s favourite toys next to your car,’ he told her softly, at the same time his expression pleading for her understanding of the situation.
And in a small way she was starting to understand his dilemma; Enid Carter could, if allowed to dominate Sam on a permanent basis, dampen all the spirit that made him such an enchanting child. Although she could be misjudging the other woman, Helen reproved herself; concern for the child’s well-being had to be a good thing. And Sam’s grandmother might just be over-protective of him because she had so recently lost her daughter. Who was she, Helen, to judge the other woman on such short acquaintance? Besides, from the few occasions she had had to see Sam with Cal Jones she didn’t have any reason to suppose he was any better for the child.
But she took his hint for her to leave with Sam, holding the little boy tightly against her, an unwanted feeling of compassion for the dilemma of his future making her want to take him right away from the conflict.
‘Do you like the zoo, Sam?’ she asked him softly as she left his play area, not sparing another glance for the other adults present. They were old enough to sort out their own problems; Sam was the one who was important now. She just hoped they resolved this problem quickly, and that the conflict stopped, although from the tight-lipped expression on Enid Carter’s face she thought it would take a lot for her to do that. Possibly only complete victory on her part.
Sam’s face came out of her neck at the word ‘zoo’, his eyes glowing. ‘Anmals?’ he said hopefully.
Lord, he was adorable, she acknowledged achingly. By the end of this afternoon she was going to be his slave for life; she had already forgone the thought of shopping in the hope of pleasing him!
He seemed totally happy going out with her in the car, his seat, and him, easily strapped into the back seat, his gaze flashing everywhere as he looked about them interestedly. It took all of Helen’s concentration to keep her attention on the road in front of them and not keep indulging in glances at Sam in her driving mirror.
Away from a situation that was obviously causing him unhappiness, Sam blossomed, completely forgetting the few words he did know as he talked to each animal at the zoo in turn in his baby gibberish. Not that the animals seemed to mind, sensing from the tone of his voice the sheer joy he felt in looking at them, several of the monkeys coming to the sides of their penned area to talk gibberish back to him!
It was an afternoon of complete pleasure for Helen. Sam needed a sharp eye kept on him at all times, but was still a delight to be with. He was completely without guile, stubborn but not deliberately wilful.
And by the end of the afternoon in his company Helen could more than understand why it was that Cal was so reluctant to part with him. Even if it was to the child’s advantage. But that was still debatable, in the face of Enid Carter’s over-protective manner. Helen could just imagine the other woman being completely horrified at the thought of Sam even being near the ‘smelly animals’, as she was sure the other woman would consider them.
Although that was jumping to conclusions, she mentally rebuked herself. But, sadly, she had a feeling that was exactly the way Enid Carter would feel.
‘Unc Cal?’ Sam said hopefully as Helen belted him back into the car for their homeward journey.
‘Unc Cal.’ She nodded, knowing the desire to see his uncle again was no reflection on the time they had just spent together; Sam had enjoyed himself at the zoo, of that she had no doubt. That he might have enjoyed it more if his uncle had been present was possible, but on the whole she would say it had been a successful afternoon.
But she could feel her own tension grow as they approached the estate; what if Cal and the Carters were still arguing?
Well, she would just have to take Sam home with her for a while, she decided firmly. Arguments of that kind were not suitable for a small child to hear; even one as young as Sam would pick up the tension in the atmosphere.
All seemed quiet when she and Sam were let into the house some time later by the young maid, although from the little she had come to know of Cal during their short acquaintance she didn’t think he was the type to scream and shout to achieve putting over his point anyway.
‘Mr Jones and his guests are in the sitting-room,’ the maid informed her before quietly disappearing into the depths of the house.
It was the first time Helen had been into the house since Cal Jones had taken it over, and she had to admit, even if a little reluctantly, that the changes he
had made were for the better. The house, which had once seemed so cold and formal, was now warm and welcoming, with an untidy elegance that allowed for the children’s toys scattered about the entrance hall, obviously left there earlier by Sam, a Sam who now squirmed in her arms to be let down to play with them again.
Helen put him down, after first checking that there was no way the little boy could make an escape up the wide staircase that led up to the wide open gallery before leading to the many bedrooms. A specially built gate, little-finger-proof, had been put in at the bottom of the stairs to achieve avoiding just such an occurrence.
To give Cal Jones his due, she allowed grudgingly, he had done everything that he could to assure the safety of the adorable child in his care.
She left Sam playing on the carpet with a fire-engine and several large cars, knocking softly on the door of the room the maid had pointed out as the room Cal occupied with his guests, choosing to announce her own presence.
She was completely unprepared for the door being wrenched open mid-knock as Enid Carter stormed out of the room! The other woman had two red spots of anger on her cheeks, her pale blue eyes blazing with unsuppressed fury.
She turned angrily on Helen as she saw her standing there. ‘It’s only natural that I should want my grandson with me!’
‘Er—well—yes…’ Helen answered lamely, completely taken aback by the attack.
‘Enid—’
‘Be quiet, Henry,’ his wife snapped harshly, turning to Cal with flashing eyes. ‘I don’t care how far you’re prepared to go in your effort at respectability, I won’t rest until I have Sam living with me!’
‘Enid, we keep going round and round this situation until I start to feel giddy,’ Cal answered wearily, obviously having spent most of his afternoon going over the same arguments—and getting absolutely nowhere.
Helen felt embarrassed at being caught in the middle of it all, had felt sure this conversation would have been over long ago, otherwise she wouldn’t have brought Sam back when she had.
‘Graham and Susan wanted Sam to live with me,’ Cal continued gently. ‘Doesn’t that count for anything?’ he reasoned softly.