A Marriage to Remember Read online

  That feeling was borne out as soon as she looked at the front page of the newspaper. There were two photographs there, both of them of Adam and herself. ‘Before’ and ‘After’, they had been captioned. It was obvious, after looking at the photographs, exactly what ‘before’ and ‘after’ the newspaper was showing!

  The first photograph portrayed herself and Adam sitting in the coffee shop, smiling. Quite when it had happened during that awful conversation, Maggi couldn’t imagine; she didn’t remember smiling at Adam at all! Then she realised, as she looked more closely at the photograph, that they weren’t actually smiling at each other but at someone not in the picture. Whoever had taken this photograph had been very clever, the picture of their happiness together in each other’s company was completely misleading. The two of them were smiling at Sally as they apologised to her for not ordering any lunch!

  The ‘after’ photograph was much more truthful about the whole encounter; Maggi was striding away from Adam in the town square, dark hair flowing, mouth tight, and Adam was some distance behind her, a look of fury on his face. No chance of hell freezing over with the mixture of fiery emotions obviously crackling in the air between them!

  Maggi glanced at her parents as they sat at the kitchen table. Their expressions were anxious, her mother’s more so—because she knew of Adam’s visit here yesterday—a visit that they had both decided not to bother Maggi’s father with.

  But some clever photographer had taken care of that for them!

  Maggi couldn’t even begin to imagine how it had happened, hadn’t been aware of anyone in the vicinity taking photographs of them, and didn’t know how the photographer could possibly have known about the meeting in the first place. She hadn’t known about it herself until Adam had arrived here so unexpectedly. Adam… Could he possibly be responsible for this…? He was capable of anything; she knew that better than anyone. But setting her up like this…?

  ‘Maggi?’

  She looked up at her father anxiously, paying attention to him with effort. ‘I have no idea how anyone managed to take these photographs.’ Although, secretly, she had a pretty good idea!

  ‘Oh, Maggi, it isn’t the taking of them that’s important,’ her father sighed. ‘I just—I don’t—Adam’s back, isn’t he?’ he said dully. ‘After everything you said about him.’ He frowned. ‘I don’t understand what’s going on.’

  ‘Nothing is going on! Adam is not back!’ Maggi cried heatedly. ‘Not in any way that’s important, anyway,’ she added impatiently. ‘He’s making a nuisance of himself, as these two photographs show only too well.’ She threw the newspaper down in disgust. ‘But it’s a nine-day wonder, a game Adam will soon tire of. We all know what a low boredom threshold he has,’ she added bitterly. ‘And when this game becomes too much of a bore for him he will just disappear again!’

  ‘Calm down, Maggi,’ her father soothed gently. ‘I was merely thinking out loud just now, wondering why Adam has chosen now to come back into your life…’

  She shrugged. ‘It seems to be because of this album he wants us to make together. Other than that, his motives are as much a mystery to me as they are to you. As usual!’ she added derisively.

  Her father raised his eyebrows in bewilderment. ‘Well, he really seems to have opened up a hornets’ nest this time. Mark has already been on the telephone this morning. Apparently, as your agent, he has been inundated with calls from newspapers and television programmes, all of them wanting an exclusive interview with you. Don’t worry,’ her father reassured her as she looked alarmed. ‘Mark has taken care of all that. All I’m saying is, things could be a bit awkward around here for a while.’

  That proved to be the understatement of the day! The telephone began to ring even as her father issued his warning, the caller a reporter, and it continued to ring almost continuously for the next hour, until wanting a brief respite, her father took it off the hook.

  But when her father attempted to go to his surgery a short time later it was to find a large group of reporters waiting at the bottom of the pathway, ready to pounce on anyone trying to leave or enter the house!

  To Maggi’s relief, Dr. Fennell finally managed to fight his way through to his car and make good his escape. He checked later in the morning to see if the reporters were still there—which they were, despite repeated requests from Maggi for them to go away!—and decided he wouldn’t bother coming back for lunch.

  Not that Maggi could blame him; she was starting to feel like a prisoner in her own home! Her only consoling thought was that Adam was probably suffering the same fate. Probably more so; his popularity had only increased over the last three years during his solo career, whereas she had faded into the background.

  Mark arrived as Maggi and her mother were eating a salad lunch, groaning as he walked into the kitchen and saw them both. ‘Normality in the face of adversity, hmm?’ he teased, bending to kiss Maggi’s mother lightly on the cheek in greeting. ‘No, I won’t, thanks.’ He refused her offer to join them. ‘But you two carry on eating and I’ll make us all a cup of tea.’ He moved about the room with the familiarity of years of friendship.

  Maggi watched him as she continued to eat. There was a suppressed excitement about him, an air of something she couldn’t quite place. No doubt Mark would tell her when and if he was ready…

  One thing she had learnt from the last three years was patience. In the circumstances, she had had no choice!

  ‘I think I’ll take my tea upstairs and lie down,’ her mother said apologetically once they had cleared the remains of their salad away. ‘A siesta seems like a good idea today,’ she added with feeling.

  ‘Well?’ Maggi prompted once she and Mark were alone.

  ‘Amongst others, the record company rang me this morning,’ he answered her, not even attempting to prevaricate. ‘They’ve come up with a new offer.’

  Maggi had rung the record company on her return from the coffee shop yesterday, telling them that any further negotiations would have to be done through Mark; she had no intention of having to deal personally with another visit from Adam! Nevertheless, she was surprised at the promptness of this offer…

  ‘What is it?’ she asked warily.

  ‘They’ve agreed to you recording and releasing an album of your own songs—’

  ‘They have?’ she leapt in excitedly; maybe Adam had done her a favour yesterday after all! ‘But this is great! When do I—?’

  ‘Your own songs, Maggi,’ Mark repeated firmly, holding her gaze with his own, ‘but accompanied by Adam.’

  Her excitement left her and she felt like a deflated balloon. A catch, there was always a catch, and it was invariably Adam…

  ‘Don’t dismiss the idea out of hand, Maggi,’ Mark encouraged as he easily read her disappointment. ‘The main thing is they have agreed to you making an album of your own songs—’

  ‘With Adam!’ She shook her head in refusal as she spoke. ‘No way, Mark. Never!’ She gave an inward shudder. Sing her songs with Adam? Share all the emotions with him that had compelled her to write the songs in the first place? No—she could never work that closely with him again.

  ‘You’re unknown as a songwriter, Maggi,’ Mark reasoned. ‘Adam has agreed to sing them unseen.’

  ‘I wonder why?’ she grated.

  ‘For all anyone knows, your songs could be rubbish.’

  ‘You and I know that they aren’t!’ she defended indignantly.

  ‘All I’m saying is—’

  ‘I know what you’re saying, Mark—and the answer is still no! Contracts don’t last for ever.’

  ‘But for the moment it’s binding.’

  ‘I would rather never make another record than sing with Adam again,’ she stated vehemently. ‘And, quite frankly, I’m surprised at your about-face on this,’ she accused him.

  Mark sighed. ‘I haven’t done an about-face. I’m just—’

  ‘Putting Adam’s point of view!’

  ‘No, not Adam’s, the record co
mpany’s,’ he insisted. ‘It may be the best offer we can get.’

  ‘No,’ she told him adamantly. She still felt exactly the same: to work with Adam, be that intimately involved with him again, go through all the emotions of her songs with him, and the reasons she had written each and every one of them? No, she couldn’t do it!

  Mark shrugged at her stubbornness. ‘We may not get another offer.’

  ‘Then we leave it. I’ll just carry on doing my gigs wherever I’m wanted. I’ll sing my songs then. I don’t care, Mark,’ she said firmly as he would have protested again. ‘It’s my way or not at all. I’ve worked too hard, Mark, been through too much, to let Adam ruin this for me now. I—’ She broke off as the doorbell rang. ‘Reporters.’ She wrinkled her nose with distaste. ‘They’ll wake Mamá up if they carry on like that,’ she added irritably as the doorbell shrilled again.

  ‘I’ll get it,’ Mark told her. ‘I’ll just tell them to go away—nicely!’

  Maggi shared a smile with him before he left to answer the door, although the smile faded as soon as Mark had gone out of the room. It was Adam’s fault the reporters were camping on her doorstep. It was Adam’s fault the record company wouldn’t consider her as a solo artist. It was Adam’s fault—

  ‘It’s Adam!’

  The statement so coincided with her thoughts that it took Maggi several seconds to realise exactly what Mark was saying!

  But as she took in the darkly powerful figure standing behind Mark in the doorway she realised he meant exactly what he had said—it was Adam. Larger than life, his expression grim.

  She gathered her thoughts together quickly, her mouth twisting derisively. ‘Come to view your handiwork, Adam?’ she challenged.

  Mark winced. ‘Maggi—’

  ‘I haven’t come to “view” anything.’ The fierceness of Adam’s voice matched his expression, as he moved past the other man to enter the kitchen. ‘I—’

  ‘Don’t tell me today’s fiasco isn’t your doing,’ Maggi dismissed. ‘Where did you have the photographer hidden yesterday, Adam? It was all rather clever—’

  ‘Magdalena, I haven’t come here to listen to fanciful accusations, either,’ he interrupted. ‘Your father is in hospital with a suspected heart attack, and you—’

  ‘Daddy is?’ she cut in anxiously. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’ She rubbed her forehead dazedly. ‘How could you possibly know—’

  ‘Your father came to see me earlier.’ Adam answered her question abruptly. ‘While we were—talking, he collapsed with pains in his chest. Being a doctor, he knew exactly what was happening to him. I drove him to hospital and he’s there now, undergoing tests to see if it was a full-blown heart attack or a serious case of angina. He wanted me to come here and assure you and your mother that he’s okay, before the two of you rush off to the hospital in a panic!’

  Maggi was having trouble taking all of this in. She didn’t understand what her father had been doing going to see Adam—how he even knew where Adam lived now, because she certainly didn’t! And she didn’t know what the two men could possibly have found to talk about. She did understand that her father was seriously ill in hospital. And that she would have to go upstairs and tell her mother…

  Dear Lord, what was happening to them all?

  ‘I’ll go and talk to Maria,’ Mark said gently. ‘No offence, Maggi, but I think your mother would only have to take one look at the whiteness of your face for her to become hysterical. I think it might sound better—if something like this possibly can—’ he grimaced ‘—coming from an outsider.’

  She nodded. For Adam to break the bad news was obviously out of the question! Having a conversation with him seemed to have already caused the collapse of one of her parents; she couldn’t risk him blundering in and upsetting her mother too! The mere sight of him, after the morning they had all had, would probably be enough to do that, anyway.

  ‘You get yourself ready, Maggi.’ Mark touched her arm encouragingly. ‘I won’t be long.’

  She was sure he wouldn’t; once her mother heard the news about her father she would be down here raring to go.

  As for herself, she couldn’t think what she needed to be ready. A jacket? Yes, probably. Her handbag? Yes, she would need that too. What else—?

  ‘He’s going to be all right, Magdalena,’ Adam told her huskily, grey eyes dark with emotion.

  She had been trying to block Adam out of her conscious thoughts. It seemed that every time she so much as turned around lately he was there. But she didn’t want to think about that now; she had to concentrate on her father. ‘Good,’ she returned abruptly.

  ‘About what you said earlier, regarding a photographer. I had nothing to do—’

  ‘Not now, Adam,’ she dismissed agitatedly. ‘Which hospital did you take my father to?’ It suddenly occurred to her that it might not be the local one, ten miles away, because her father had gone to see Adam.

  He shrugged. ‘I told you, he realised what was happening to him and insisted on going to Melchester.’

  Then he was quite near to them. And she hoped Adam was right when he said it wasn’t serious.

  ‘I’m driving you there, Magdalena,’ Adam said abruptly. ‘You and your mother. Mark can follow in his own car, if he cares to, but I promised your father I would be the one to drive the two of you to see him.’ He added those last words almost challengingly.

  Maggi couldn’t be bothered to argue with him. What did it matter who drove them to the hospital, as long as they got there? Their lives had been in turmoil again since Adam had come back, and all she wanted at the moment was to see her father and reassure her mother and herself that he really was okay.

  Her mother was very pale when she came downstairs a few minutes later, but seemed strong when Maggi moved forward to hug her. She remained controlled in the Range Rover, keeping up a politely distant conversation with Adam as she sat beside him in the front of the vehicle on the drive to the hospital. In all honesty, Maggi was amazed at her mother’s calmness, but accepted it was probably the only way she could deal with the terrible shock she had just received.

  However, that calm deserted her mother completely once they were taken to Intensive Care to see Maggi’s father. He lay so still in the bed, attached to several monitors, looking nothing at all like the lively, dependable man he usually was.

  Her mother burst forth into a stream of emotional Spanish, speaking too fast for any of them to understand, before she launched herself into her husband’s arms.

  Maggi could clearly understand the reason for this break in control; her father suddenly looked very old, and the gaunt look that had haunted his face in the last few weeks was even more pronounced. Maggi felt like bursting into tears herself!

  ‘Let’s go and talk to the doctor.’ Adam took a firm hold of her arm, guiding her out of the room. ‘Butt out, Mark.’ His grip tightened on Maggi’s arm as the other man stood outside the hospital room, having been refused entry because he wasn’t immediate family. ‘If you want to make yourself useful then go and see if you can find coffee for all of us!’

  Mark looked as if he was about to explode at being ordered about in this way, but one look at the strain on Maggi’s face and he bit back the angry retort he had been about to make to Adam. ‘I’ll be right here when you need me, Maggi.’ He squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.

  ‘She won’t need you,’ Adam rasped harshly. ‘Coffee?’ he prompted Mark pointedly as he made no effort to move away from Maggi.

  Mark shot Adam another furious look, but Maggi couldn’t be bothered with their petty quarrels just now. All she wanted was to know her father was going to be all right!

  But she was no nearer knowing that even once they had spoken to the doctor in charge of her father, there were far too many ifs and buts in the conversation for Maggi’s liking. The next twenty-four hours were critical. There would be further monitoring for several days. He needed no stress, no worries, complete rest. Then tests. And then more tests. More res
t. And then finally he might be allowed home into their care. As long as he continued to rest, with no stress, no strain, no worries…

  Maggi felt the last instruction was completely unnecessary. Of course none of them wanted to cause her father any worry. It was totally nonsensical as far as Maggi was concerned for the doctor to even think it necessary to issue such a warning to a doctor’s daughter! What did this man—?

  ‘Thank you, Dr Stokes.’ Adam was the one to conclude the meeting, shaking the other man by the hand before leading Maggi out of the room. ‘He’s only doing his job, Magdalena,’ he said gently once they were outside in the corridor. ‘Painting the scenario, offering advice. As he would with anyone in the same circumstances.’

  She gave a heavy sigh, closing her eyes briefly. ‘I suppose so. I just—It’s—it’s just so—awful,’ she admitted shakily.

  ‘I understand.’ Adam nodded. ‘I do know how it feels to have the life of someone you love hanging in the balance,’ he added gruffly. She looked at him uncomprehendingly. ‘I’m talking about you, Magdalena!’ he told her impatiently when she still looked puzzled.

  Her? But—‘I don’t think that is relevant, Adam,’ she finally bit out in denial, her cheeks flushed. ‘That’s the past; this is now,’ she told him agitatedly.

  He gave a brief nod of acknowledgement. ‘But the past is always relevant to here and now. I don’t—’

  ‘Oh, Mamá!’ Maggi cried as her mother came out of her father’s room, rushing to her side. The two women hugged in their mutual despair.

  ‘He’s all right, Maggi,’ her mother assured her huskily, attempting a smile that didn’t quite reach fruition. ‘He wants to talk to you. And Adam,’ she added pointedly, drawing Maggi’s attention to the fact that Adam had once again moved protectively to her side.

  And Adam…? Why on earth did her father want Adam there? She didn’t want him there!

  ‘Your father isn’t to be upset, Magdalena,’ Adam reminded her quietly, obviously able to read the rebellion in her expression.

  She was well aware of that fact—but surely seeing Adam was likely to cause upset? Wasn’t it talking to Adam that had put her father in here in the first place?