Emma Harte - Hold The Dream Part 43

"Our bird cages aren't half as nice as yours, though." He grinned at her. "Mind you, the artist did a good job with the murals. I must admit I do love exotic birds." His eyes swept over her suggestively.

Paula laughed at the innuendo.

Shane moved in his chair, reached into his pocket for his cigarettes. His shirt was partially open down the

front and she suddenly caught the gleam of gold against his suntanned chest. She peered at him.

"Goodness, is that the St. Christopher medal I gave you?"

He looked down, fingered it. "The very same."

"You haven't been wearing it, though-before tonight."

"I haven't worn it for a couple of years. I found it in the flat on Monday night when I was packing. The

catch was broken. I brought it with me, had it repaired in Holetown. They just delivered it back to me half an hour ago."

"I'm glad you're wearing it again."

"Do you remember when you gave it to me?"

"When you were twenty. For your birthday eight years ago."

"And what did I give you when you were twenty?"

"A pair of antique amethyst earrings." She frowned, then laughed lightly. "Did you think I'd forgotten,

Shane O'Neill?"

"I was sure you hadn't forgotten. However, I bet you don't remember what I gave you when you reached the ripe old age of five."

"Oh yes I do. A bag of blue marbles."

He sat back, looking pleased. "Correct. Which you promptly began to lose, one by one. You cried so much I had to promise to buy you another bag. But I never did, and so"-he put his hand in his jacket pocket-"here's the replacement. Sorry it's taken me so long to fulfill a boyhood promise." He dropped a small opaque plastic bag in front of her.

Laughing, enjoying his mood and flirting with him, Paula picked it up, opened the bag, dipped into it. "You are a fool, but a most adorable one-" She stopped. A pair of sapphire-and-diamond earrings, beautifully cut and of superb quality, lay glittering in her hands. "Oh, Shane, they're absolutely exquisite. Thank you, thank you^so much." She kissed his cheek, added, "But you're awfully extravagant."

"So I've been told. Like them?"

"Like them! I love them. And most especially because they're from you." She pulled off the gold studs she was wearing, slipped them into her silk evening purse, took out a small mirror and put on the sapphires. She glanced at herself, admiring the earrings. "Oh, Shane, they do look lovely on me, don't they?"

"Almost as lovely as those uncanny eyes of yours."

She squeezed his hand. She was touched by the unexpected present, overwhelmed, really. Her throat tightened. She recalled the gifts he had given her when she had been a child. He had always been uncommonly generous, saving his pocket money for months to be able to buy something special. And he had had a knack for giving her exactly the right thing-like the earrings tonight. For a reason she could not comprehend, her eyes filled with tears.

"What's the matter, darling?" he asked gently, leaning across the table.

She shook her head, blinking. "I don't know, aren't I silly." She groped in her bag, found a handkerchief, blew her nose, gave him a watery smile.

He watched her silently, waiting for her to compose herself.

"I was thinking of our childhood," she commenced after a few seconds. "At the time, it seemed as if it would never end-all those lovely summers at Heron's Nest. But it did come to an end, just as those summers did." Before she could stop herself, she added, "As this will come to an end too."

He put his hand over hers. "Oh, darling, don't be sad."

"Our days here in the sun, this magic time . . . it's just a brief sojourn, really, Shane."

Squeezing her hand, entwining his ringers with hers, he said slowly, "You talk of endings . . . / think of beginnings. That's what this is, Paula, a beginning. Remember what I said about time? Well, this is the future. It's here, now. All around us. Part of the flowing river of time."

She was silent, her eyes resting on him, searching his face.

"I hadn't wanted to get into a discussion about the mess we've found ourselves in, Paula, at least, not

down here. But perhaps we'd better have a talk. Would you like to do that?"

Paula nodded.

The smile settling on his face was confident, very sure. "You know how much I love you. I said in the car,

earlier today, that I'd never let you go, and I won't, Paula. Our feelings for each other are too strong to

be ignored- We're meant to be together for the rest of our lives. Do you agree?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"Then it's obvious what you're going to have to do. You'll have to get a divorce so that you can marry me. You do want to marry me, don't you?"

"Oh yes, Shane, very much."

He saw that her face had paled, and that her very bright supernaturally blue eyes had darkened with apprehension. "Tell me what's troubling you, Paula."

"You said I was intrepid when I was a child-but as a grown woman I'm not. I'm frightened, Shane."

"What about?" he asked, his gentleness increasing. "Come on, let's have it. If anyone can chase your

fears away, surely it's me."

"I'm afraid of losing my children and of losing you."

"You know that will never happen. The three of us will be with you always."

Paula took a deep breath, plunged in. She said, "I don't think Jim will agree to a divorce."

Shane pulled back slightly, eyeing her askance. "I can't imagine his taking that att.i.tude. Not once he

knows you want to end a bad marriage."

"You don't know Jim," she interjected, her voice tense. "He's stubborn, and he can be difficult. I have a horrible feeling he's going to adopt an inflexible stance. I told you, he doesn't think there's anything wrong with our marriage. He'll use the children as a wedge, and especially if he thinks there's another man.""He's not going to think there's another man in your life," Shane said quietly. "I'll be the only man you're seeing, and n.o.body is going to be suspicious of me." He attempted a laugh. "Me, your childhood playmate!" His brows shot up. "Come on, darling, don't be so gloomy." Paula sighed heavily. "Yes, perhaps I shouldn't antic.i.p.ate." She shook her head. "Poor Jim. I feel sorry for him, actually."

"I know. But you can't build a relationship on pity, Paula. There's no reward in that for either party. You'll

start regarding yourself as a martyr and he'll sink under his humiliation. You 11 end up genuinely hating each other."

"I suppose you're right," she admitted, seeing the truth in his words.

"I know I'm right. And look here, don't start feeling guilty, either. That's another wasted emotion." He tightened his grip on her fingers. "And, anyway, you don't have one single reason to feel guilty, Paula. You've given your marriage your best efforts, done your d.a.m.nedest to hold it together, from what you've told me. It simply hasn't worked. And so you must end it-for Jim's sake as well as your own."

Paula bit her inner lip. Her worry flared. Then she murmured, "It may take me a while to work everything out, to get things settled properly."

"I'm aware of that, these emotional situations are never easy, but I'll wait, I'll be a model of patience. I'll be there to give you moral support. And there's another thing, we're both young. We have all the time in the world."

"Don't tempt providence, Shane!"

Shane shook his head, scoffed lightly, in amus.e.m.e.nt, "I'm not, I'm merely stating facts." Whilst he trusted her judgment, privately concurred with her a.s.sessment of Jim, he did not want to burden her further by acknowledging this. Not tonight. Instead, he wanted to dispel her gloominess by making light of her worries. And so he produced his most a.s.sured smile, adopted his most engaging manner. He exclaimed, "Let's make a pact-like we used to when we were kids."

"All right. What kind of pact?"

"Let's agree not to discuss our problems, and they are mine as well as yours, for the next few weeks. Two days before you return to England we'll have a long session, thrash things out. Together, we'll decide how you're going to proceed. What do you say?"

"Yes, it's a good idea. We mustn't let-things get to us, .must we? Otherwise we won't enjoy this precious time we have together."

"That's my girl. Shall we drink to our pact? We've hardly touched this champagne."

She nodded. He poured. They clinked gla.s.ses. Their hands automatically entwined.

His eyes were tender and warm as they rested on her. He said, after a while, "You must trust me. Trust my love, Paula."

She looked at him in surprise, remembering how her grandmother had once said that it was important to trust love. As she met Shane O'Neill's dark and steadfast gaze, saw. the depth and strength of his feelings for her, Paula's fears slowly began to evaporate. Her depression lifted.

"I do tmst your love, and you must trust mine." A small smile played around her mouth. "Everything is going to be all right. It really is, Shane, because we have each other."

But Paula was wrong. Her troubles were about to begin.

Chapter Thirty-seven.

Emma Harte stared hard at Paula, a frown knitting her brow. "I'm not sure I'm following you," she said. "What exactly do you mean when you say Christmas is going to be difficult?"

Paula said quickly, "Before I explain, I just want you to understand that he's all right, actually-"

'Who's all right?" .

"Jim, Grandy. I'm afraid he's had an accident. A rather bad accident, and he's-"

"Not in that plane of his?" Emma cried, and straightened up in the chair jerkily, her frown intensifying.

"Yes. He crashed. Two weeks ago. It happened a couple of days after I got back from New York, at the beginning of December," Paula said in a rush. Wanting to allay her grandmother's worry, she hurried on, "But lie was lucky, in one sense at least, since the plane came down at Yeadon Airport. They were able to pull him out of the plane before it exploded in flames."

"Oh my G.o.d!" Emma's hackles rose as she thought of Jim's narrow escape. He could so easily have been killed, and Paula might have been in the plane with him, might not have survived. Leaning forward, she asked in an urgent voice, "How badly is he injured?"

"He's broken his right leg and his left shoulder, and his ribs are cracked. He's also badly bruised. But there are no injuries that are permanently disabling or life-threatening. Obviously, though, those he has sustained are serious enough."

"No internal damage?"

"None, thank heavens, Grandy. Jim was rushed to Leeds Infirmary immediately, and he stayed there for five days, having all kinds of tests-neurological, what have you. Fortunately, the doctors didn't find a thing. Every injury is external." Paula paused, looked across at her grandmother. Worry ringed her face. She said, "He's in two casts and his ribs are taped. I've had to hire a male nurse to look after him. You see, Jim can't dress himself and he finds it awkward, almost impossible, to do the most normal things."

Emma exhaled, still reeling from the news. She exclaimed, "Why on earth didn't you tell me about this when I was in New York? Or yesterday, when I arrived in London?"

"I didn't want to worry you when you were still on your holiday, and so far away. And last night you were so excited about being back I didn't want to spoil your homecoming and the little supper my mother had planned for you here. I'd intended to mention it on our way in from the airport but-1-" Paula shrugged, gave her a small apologetic smile. "I decided it could easily wait until today."

"I see." Emma sat back, shaking her head. "I am sorry, Paula, this is just dreadful, simply dreadful. But we must be thankful it's not any worse, more serious than it is. He's going to be out of action for months, of course."

"Yes," Paula murmured. "The casts have to be on at least six weeks. Then he'll have to have intensive physical therapy. The muscles will atrophy from lack of use. The doctor has explained that Jim won't be able to lift his arm or put weight on his leg until those dead muscles have been built up again. It seems it'll be a good six months before he's back to normal."

"Broken bones are a lot more serious than people realize," Emma said quietly. She fixed Paula with a steely glance. "And how did it happen?"