A Kiss To Remember Page 13

  He raised both his hands, as if to ward off the defensive daggers in her words. ‘You’re wrong there, Angie. I think I understand Lance very well. Maybe even better than you do.’

  Angie jumped to her feet, her eyes spitting fire at her brother. ‘God, not that superstud stuff again, Bud. That’s ancient history. What is it with you, that you feel compelled to run Lance down all the time? You’re supposed to be his best friend. Fine friend you turned out to be. You know what? I think you’re jealous of him. I think you’ve always been jealous of him!’

  Angie planted furious hands on her hips as Bud started looking her up and down, a stupid grin on his face. ‘I think I’m beginning to see what Lance sees in you, Angie. You’ve turned into one hell of a fiery female! I guess I was stuck in a time-warp, still thinking of you as a quiet, shy little teenager— so innocent in the ways of the world, needing your big brother to protect you from wolves like Lance.’

  ‘Lance is not a wolf!’ she protested hotly. ‘He wasn’t back then, and he isn’t now. You make it sound like he had to seduce me or something. I assure you he didn’t. I was only too willing to be seduced!’

  ‘So he said.’

  ‘He did?’ Angie frowned at this news. She didn’t like the sound of it. ‘What else did he say about me?’ she demanded to know.

  ‘I’m not at liberty to tell you.’

  Disgruntlement curled her lips. ‘What on earth does that mean? Why can’t you tell me what he said? Why do you both have to be so damned secretive all of a sudden?’

  ‘That’s the way Lance wanted it.’

  ‘Since when do you do what Lance says? I’m your sister, for heaven’s sake. Your first loyalty is to me.’

  Bud laughed. ‘Really? Then you don’t know anything about true mateship, do you?’

  ‘Oh, piffle. You and Lance haven’t been true mates for donkey’s years.’

  ‘Fat lot you know, little sister. Men aren’t like women. They don’t have to see each other every week for their friendship to remain solid. Lance and I sorted out a lot of things today, and we’re better friends now than ever.’

  Angie scowled at her brother. ‘Well, bully for you!’

  Bud laughed. ‘I’d watch that language, if I were you, madam. Any woman gracing Lance Sterling’s arm wouldn’t be expected to go around tossing off Aussie slang all the time.’

  ‘Is that so?’ Angie said archly, infuriated at this about-face in Bud.

  ‘Yes, that’s so. He has a certain position to uphold, you know.’

  ‘Well, stone the crows, Bud,’ she drawled, in the broadest Aussie accent, ‘maybe I should just grace his bed, then, and not his arm. I’m sure the almighty Lance Sterling won’t care what language I come out with there. I reckon I could be as colourful as I like and he wouldn’t object.’

  Bud’s face darkened. ‘Cut it out, Angie.’

  ‘Why should I? Now that you’re back licking Lance’s boots you might as well know the whole score. I don’t know what Lance told you in that barn, but the truth is he asked me to marry him and I turned him down. I told him I wasn’t prepared to be the wife of some high-powered wheeler-dealer who spent more time in the air than on the ground. Of course, Lance wasn’t fazed one bit by my knocking back his proposal of marriage. He merely moved on to his next proposition to get me permanently into his bed. He asked me to be his mistress! How do you like dem apples?’ she flung at him.

  ‘Who’s running Lance down now?’

  ‘I’m entitled to. I’m the one who loves the bastard!’

  He glared at her for several seconds before slowly shaking his head, a rueful smile splitting his round face. ‘You know what, Angie? I almost pity Lance. All these years, I thought you needed protecting from him. But I was wrong. It’s really the other way around. The poor bastard,’ he said, chuckling as he walked away. ‘Who would have believed it?’

  A tap on Angie’s office door sent her eyes to the wall clock. It was three thirty-five, a little early for Vanessa, who was a conscientious teacher and never dashed out of the classroom straight after the bell.

  Angie rather wished Vanessa might be less conscientious today, with Lance coming to the flat at four-thirty. She hadn’t heard from him since his departure from the farm over a week ago, either by letter or telephone—a situation she found unnerving. Yet, despite that, she had no doubt he would turn up today, as he had said he would.

  ‘Come in,’ she called, when the door-tapper didn’t automatically enter.

  It was Debbie, looking sheepish but happy. ‘Sorry to bother you, Miss,’ she said, hovering in the doorway. ‘I know I don’t have an appointment but I just wanted you to know I... I didn’t do it. You know...with Warren. I thought about what you said and I decided to wait till someone more special came along.’

  Angie’s eyes misted before she could stop them.

  ‘I also wanted to ask if you’ll be here next year...’ Debbie blathered on, God bless her. ‘I mean ... you’re the third counsellor we’ve had in three years, and they all seem to leave after a year. We all like you a lot, Miss, and think you’re real cool. Even Gloria likes you!’

  Angie had to laugh, for she knew what Debbie meant. Gloria was the meanest, toughest, bitchiest girl in the whole school.

  ‘That certainly is a true compliment,’ Angie said, green eyes gleaming, but with laughter now, not tears. ‘Yes, Debbie, I’ll still be here next year.’

  ‘Gosh, that’s great. I’ll tell all the others. We thought, after you were away last week, that you might have been getting sick of us, and took time off to look for another job.’

  ‘No, it wasn’t anything like that. My mum was ill. She had a heart attack. But she’s getting better now. In fact, she came home from hospital yesterday.’

  ‘Gee, Miss, we didn’t know. No one told us,’ Debbie said, resentment pursing her pretty young mouth. ‘No one tells us anything! If we’d known we’d have bought a card or something. It’s not as though we don’t care.’

  Angie felt warmed by the girl’s sentiments. Moments like this made what she did worthwhile.

  ‘I know you care, Debbie,’ she said, a lump filling her throat. ‘And I’m so proud of you for the decision you made. It was a very mature one.’

  Debbie grinned. ‘Yeah. I thought so too. But don’t tell anyone else. I lied my teeth out and said sex was fantastic!’

  Vanessa popped her head in the door moments after Debbie had disappeared. ‘What did that little raver want?’ she said scornfully. ‘Do you know she’s been going round telling everyone she lost her cherry last weekend? What kind of girls are parents bringing up these days? I ask you!’

  ‘Not a very different kind from our generation,’ Angie said wryly. ‘We all struggle along, trying to work out what sex and love are all about, and we all make the most horrendous mistakes.’

  Vanessa’s dark eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘Are you saying you made a mistake becoming involved with lover-boy again?’

  Angie stood up and began tidying her desk. ‘Of course. He won’t ever give me what I want, Vanessa.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘A normal family life, with a house and kids, and a hubbie who comes home every night.’

  ‘Yuk! Give me penthouse suites and wild orgies and private jets any day.’

  ‘You fibber! I saw the way you were batting your eyelashes at Bret Johnson today. And you couldn’t get a more normal, down-to-earth bloke. So what’s going on between you and the economics teacher?’

  ‘Not much. Yet,’ Vanessa added with a wicked grin. ‘But he likes me. He really likes me.’

  ‘And why not? You’re very likeable... for a feminist and a maths teacher. You can tell me all about him on the way home. It’ll keep my mind off Lance.’

  ‘Nothing,’ Vanessa said drily, ‘is going to keep your mind off him, love. You know it and I know it.’

  Angie groaned. ‘You could be right.’

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The sight of Lance’s black Audi alread
y parked outside their block of flats showed Angie that her confidence in his turning up today had all been a sham. Underneath, she’d been terrified he wouldn’t.

  ‘Hey, watch it!’ Vanessa warned her sharply, when the car drifted dangerously close to a van going the other way.

  ‘Sorry. I was distracted there for a second.’

  ‘Yes, I can see myself what caused it. I thought you said he wasn’t due till four-thirty,’ Vanessa finished drily.

  ‘That... that’s what he told me.’ Angie did her best to control her shaking hands, voice and in-sides, but without much success.

  ‘Well, it’s only twenty-three minutes past four. He seems keen, Angie.’

  ‘Yes, but for what?’

  Vanessa’s head whipped round, her dark eyebrows arching. ‘My, my—I thought I was the only cynic around here.’

  Angie sighed. ‘I’m fast catching up.’

  ‘Men do that to you. Especially men who look like that.’

  Both women watched Lance emerging from his car as they drove down the street towards him. He was casually dressed this time, in blue jeans and a navy short-sleeved golf shirt with a crisp red stripe around the open-necked collar. Despite his everyday clothes, he still managed to look rich and perversely glamorous. Maybe it was that gorgeous hair of his, glinting gold in the sun, or the gleam of real gold on his wrist and fingers. Or maybe it was just the way he carried himself.

  Were wealthy men born with that air of lazy arrogance? Angie wondered. Or did it just develop over the years of being treated as superior beings?

  Even Vanessa was shaking her head. ‘That is some man, Angie,’ she said with rueful acceptance. ‘I can understand why you flipped over him. If he asked me to be his mistress, I’d say yes like a shot. There again, I’d have agreed to be his wife. I have to admire your strength of character in saying no, there. Still, perhaps it’s your saying no that’s made him so keen. I can’t imagine too many women saying no to him over the years.’

  ‘Mmm,’ was all Angie could say, her eyes locking with Lance’s as she slid the car into the kerb behind him. ‘Would you mind putting the car in the garage for me, Vanessa?’ she asked her flatmate. ‘I’d like to speak to Lance out here for a minute.’

  ‘Spoilsport,’ Vanessa grumbled.

  ‘I’ll bring him up for coffee shortly.’

  ‘OK. I’ll put the kettle on.’

  Lance walked over to hold the car door open for Angie as she swung her legs out, his gaze flicking down then up her body as she did so. She couldn’t tell if he liked the way she looked or not; his expression was quite bland.

  Her work image was a far cry from the glammed-up party look Lance had encountered the night of Bud’s birthday, and from the way she’d been dressed the following day. She always wore simple suits and tailored blouses to school, which didn’t stand out among the uniforms and didn’t bring too much attention to her natural good looks. Makeup was kept to a minimum, her long hair brushed straight back and secured at the nape of her neck with a clip or bow.

  Today she was wearing a fawn suit with a knife-pleated skirt and a blazer jacket with cream buttons. Her blouse was cream, and a tortoiseshell clip held her hair tidily in place. She never bothered to curl it for work, leaving it quite straight.

  ‘Hello, Angie,’ he said. ‘Vanessa,’ he added, nodding at her as she too climbed out and began walking around the car towards the driver’s side.

  ‘Lance,’ Vanessa replied succinctly, smiling a wry smile. ‘Your punctuality is impressive.’

  He merely smiled, saying nothing. Angie felt the tension behind his smile, and immediately succumbed to all kinds of doubts and fears.

  He’s come to tell me that it’s over between us, she panicked. That he’s decided not to move to Sydney. That I’m more trouble than I’m worth.

  Yet if that was the case, logic argued back, why had he come in person? He would surely have chosen to give such bad news over the telephone, or by letter.

  ‘Did... did you get all your business done?’ Angie asked, once Vanessa had driven off and they were alone on the pavement.

  ‘As much as was possible,’ he returned cryptically. ‘There are still some loose ends to tie up. But if you mean have I moved to Sydney to live,’ he added, his eyes never leaving her worried face, ‘I have.’

  Her relief seemed to please him. But it didn’t please herself. God, but she was hopeless. She might as well just serve herself up to him on a silver platter if she meant to go on like this, with an attached note which said, ‘To be used and disposed of as you please!’

  Love and pride were bad bedfellows, she decided unhappily. They made fools of each other.

  ‘Would you like to come up for some coffee? Vanessa’s going to put on the kettle.’

  ‘I’d rather not, Angie. I’d like to talk to you alone,’ he said, with a seriousness that sent those doubts and fears churning in her stomach again. ‘Is there somewhere we could drive to? Some nearby park?’

  ‘I... I suppose so. Let me just run upstairs and tell Vanessa, or she’ll think I’m terribly rude.’

  She returned to find Lance already behind the wheel of his car. Under her directions they drove to a small reserve down on McMahon’s Point, where there were several park benches on a grassy verge overlooking the harbour. It was a chilly spot during the winter months, but on a warm summer’s afternoon it was a delight, with a cooling breeze and a view to soothe even the most troubled heart.

  And Angie’s heart was troubled—so troubled that she found it hard to keep silent while they walked together towards the only vacant bench. When they finally sank down upon the rather hard wooden slats she immediately turned to face Lance.

  ‘Lance, I... I’m not sure that I... that I—’

  ‘Don’t go on, Angie,’ he cut in abruptly. ‘Listen to what I have to say first. Then you can have your say.’

  ‘All right.’ She just knew she wasn’t going to like what he had to say.

  ‘I haven’t been strictly truthful with you.’

  Angie’s heart fell.

  ‘I made a proposal to you that I had no intention of going through with.’

  Her heart fell even further.

  ‘I just wanted to find out if you still loved me. Once I did, believe me when I say I had no intention of letting you become my mistress. I had no intention of letting you become anything but my wife and the mother of my children.’

  Angie’s eyes flew up from where they’d dropped to the ground.

  Lance reached out to touch her cheek gently, and her heart flipped over. ‘I love you, Angie. I’ve always loved you... ever since that summer...’

  ‘But...but you never came back for me,’ she cried. ‘And you married someone else!’

  He shook his head, his hand falling from her cheek down into his lap. ‘I foolishly allowed other forces to shape the course of my life. I thought I was being cruel to be kind. I thought I was unworthy of you.’

  ‘How could you think that?’ she groaned.

  ‘Oh, Angie, Angie, have you any idea how different your family is from mine? That summer... I was given a taste of something so alien to everything I had ever known, something so damned wonderful that it ate me up with longing and envy.

  ‘I’d already had an advance taste of the Browns with Bud, who was more openly honest and full of the love of life than any person I had ever met before. He was his own man, and I liked that. There were no pretensions about him, or airs and graces, as your mother would have said. He took me for what I was, not for what my parents owned. He liked nothing better than to bring me down a peg or two—a tendency he’s perhaps taken too far over the years,’ he added with a touch of acid.

  ‘But truthfully,’ Lance went on, reaching over to take her two hands in his, ‘I could understand Bud’s outrage where you were concerned. What brother would have wanted the man I was then for his fifteen-year-old sister? Hell, I wasn’t really a man— I was nothing but a spoiled, arrogant, sex-crazed idiot, whose only feel
ings for girls up till then had resided firmly between my legs.

  ‘It was so easy after I left the farm to tell myself I’d imagined those other feelings you engendered in me, to confuse the beginnings of a real love with the stirrings of lust, to excuse your feelings as little more than a schoolgirl crush which would fade in time.’

  ‘I tried telling myself that as well,’ Angie said, a sob catching in her throat. ‘But I simply could not forget you.’

  ‘Or I you. Though I tried damned hard. I avoided all girls who looked even remotely like you. Yet at the same time I was obviously looking for the kind of relationship you’d promised. When I first met Helen, she cleverly worked out what I wanted in a woman and played the part to the hilt. She convinced me that she wanted nothing but to be my wife and the mother of my children.

  ‘It was all an act, of course. She came from a family who’d had money once but whose fortunes had declined after the property market crashed in the eighties. She married me for my money, and my money is all she got.

  ‘I must take some blame for her subsequent behaviour, because it must have quickly become obvious to her that I loved her no more than she loved me. I did my best to make a go of the marriage but it was doomed from the start. After a few months of Helen refusing to sleep with me I hired that private detective, and put the final denouement into motion.’

  ‘And it was during this time that you slept with someone else?’ she asked carefully, needing to know the answer. ‘Or were there a lot of women, Lance?’

  ‘No, only one. Believe me when I tell you it meant nothing, Angie—either to me or to her. She was a hard-nosed career-woman in her mid-thirties. We met through business and she made it perfectly obvious that she was available. She used sex to destress her life, she said. I didn’t much care what her motives were as long as she gave me what I wanted.

  ‘That week, after Helen left, I finally took stock of my life. I looked at myself in the mirror and decided I did not like what I saw. Then I looked at something else, and I’m not ashamed to admit it, Angie—I cried.’