She. HC Warner
Chapter Thirty-One
Part Four
To my dear daughter,
You will never read this letter but I needed to write it all the same.
I am so sorry for everything. If I could turn back time and change the past, I would. But the one thing I would never want to change is you. I’m sure your mother will have told you things about me and I will admit that some of them, to my shame, are true.
But, whatever she may have told you, I promise that from the moment you were born, I loved you. I know that you will grow up into a lovely young woman. I’m certain you will be as beautiful as your mother – maybe even more so. I hope you will be a good person and that one day you will be able to find it in your heart to forgive me and understand that every single one of us is flawed and anything I did, I did out of a father’s love for his child.
Love always,
Dad
‘She seems perfect.’ Jo waved one last time, as her son drove his new girlfriend away from the house, the wheels of his black, open-top Mercedes spitting up the gravel on the driveway behind them as they departed, before she swung the heavy front door shut and looked up at Peter. ‘Don’t you agree? Don’t you think she seems like the perfect girl for him?’
Peter exhaled loudly and his eyes crinkled with tiredness. She could sense his irritability and there was a slight sheen of sweat on his tanned, lined forehead. ‘You said that about the last one.’ His words came out in one long sigh.
‘Well, Charlotte was perfect at the time.’ Jo couldn’t keep the defensive tone out of her voice, even though she knew he was right.
‘Hmmm …’ Peter pursed his lips disapprovingly, before turning and walking with a laboured stride along the cool, dark, flag-stoned hallway towards the sprawling, open-plan kitchen, which was suffused in a pale pink glow from the setting sun. ‘Except for the small matter that she dumped Ben and broke his heart.’
Jo hesitated, thinking, before following her husband. ‘You know, now that things have worked out the way they have, maybe it was for the best. Maybe she did him a favour?’
Peter picked up his half-finished glass of red wine from the pale granite worktop, and took it out onto the vast, sandstone terrace, which was now pleasantly warm after the searing heat of the late July day. He sat at the large glass table and looked out over the velvety green lawn, sweeping down towards the azure swimming pool, which looked like it was twinkling with a thousand dancing diamonds in the early evening sun.
Jo watched him for a few moments, letting him walk ahead, before picking up her own glass and heading out to join him. He seemed jittery and upset, which was out of character. She sat down at the table beside him. ‘Are you OK, darling? You seem a bit … uptight.’
Peter didn’t answer but gave a slight shrug.
‘You’re not sure about her, are you?’ Jo watched him closely, as she took a sip of her wine, which tasted slightly metallic after drinking several glasses of it.
‘No.’
The speed of his answer took her by surprise. ‘Why? She was perfectly charming.’
Peter pursed his lips again. It was as if he was trying to stop the words escaping. ‘Yes. Very.’ His tone was dry. Sardonic.
‘What then?’
Peter turned his sleepy gaze towards her. She loved his dark brown eyes, still framed by long lashes. He didn’t look younger than his 63 years, thanks to his cropped grey hair and tanned, lined skin, but he was certainly still a very handsome man. ‘I’m not sure.’ He hesitated and it was obvious that he was holding back. He tilted his head upwards, as if seeking inspiration from the sky. ‘She’s like a ghost that just appeared out of nowhere. And it’s all happened a bit too quickly. He’s on the rebound.’
Jo considered his words before replying: ‘You’re just being over-protective of your son.’
Peter sighed and looked back at her, his eyes clouded with worry. Jo frowned, as she fixed him with an intense stare, willing him to open up a bit more about his feelings. Seeing her expression, he tried to rearrange his features into a smile, before his face became serious again. ‘Maybe. But …’ He shook his head slightly, swatting away the thought. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Ignore me.’
Jo reached across the table and took his hand in hers. ‘I’m sure you’re worrying unnecessarily. Relax, she seems like the perfect girl for him.’
‘Pull over here!’
‘What?’ Ben turned towards her in surprise. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Pull over!’ she repeated.
Ben frowned to himself but immediately indicated and pulled into a small layby overlooking the patchwork of green and gold fields that criss-crossed the Suffolk landscape, undulating down towards the river. His heart hammered with sudden trepidation, as he turned off the engine and looked over at her expectantly. He cleared his throat. ‘What’s up?’
Bella turned her huge, dark eyes towards him, causing his stomach to flip. Despite being in his open-top Mercedes, he could still detect notes of her scent on the light summer evening breeze. ‘I’m pregnant.’
There was a rushing sound in Ben’s ears, as if a giant wave was thundering into shore behind him and he gripped the steering wheel to steady himself against its onslaught. ‘Pregnant?’
Bella looked away, her exquisite face still and expressionless.
Ben swallowed hard. ‘Are you sure?’
At his words, she closed her eyes for a moment, as a shadow of temper briefly swept over her smooth brow. ‘Yes.’ The word came out as a hiss.
Ben’s mouth formed a silent ‘oh’. He didn’t know how he was supposed to react. Didn’t know what he was supposed to say. And it was so soon. They had only been together for a couple of months.
He tried to grab onto the thoughts careering through his