So, although Anne and David Tracy had died on holiday when Davina was only five, Sarah had kept her promise and eventually sent the child as a weekly boarder to the girls’ school Margaret Parker had persuaded them to choose. But Sarah had never imagined beforehand how painful it would be to part with Davy every term-time Sunday evening.
When Brian rang after the weekend, with a belated enquiry after Sarah’s health, she agreed readily when he suggested they had dinner together the following evening, glad of the opportunity to tell him it was over between them.
Over dinner at Brian’s favourite restaurant Sarah listened patiently while he gave her a detailed account of the play she’d missed.
‘The actress who played Lady Windermere was particularly good,’ he informed her. ‘Beautiful creature.’
‘So I’ve heard,’ murmured Sarah absently, her mind on the kindest way to tell him it was over between them. In the end Brian gave up on her, openly relieved when she refused pudding and coffee. He walked her back to the car at such a pace she assumed he was in a hurry to get home, then sat silent for a moment, making no move to switch on the ignition.
‘Sarah, there’s something I need to tell you,’ he informed her heavily.
Because he’d taken the exact words out of her mouth she eyed him in surprise. ‘Talk away, then, Brian.’
‘I’m sorry I was poor company tonight,’ he began, staring through the windscreen. ‘Because, well—oh, dammit, there’s no easy way to say this.’
‘Are you by any chance giving me the push, Brian?’ asked Sarah unsteadily, desperate to laugh.
‘I wouldn’t have put it quite like that,’ he protested, and shot a hunted look at her. ‘Look, my dear, I hate to do this to you in your particular situation.’
She stiffened. ‘My situation?’
‘Don’t be offended,’ he implored her. ‘I think you do a wonderful job as a single parent. But—well—the truth is, Sarah, I’m just not cut out to be a stepfather,’ he added in a rush.
Since Sarah, in her wildest dreams, had never cast him in the role, she agreed readily. ‘No, Brian, I don’t think you are.’
‘But I must be honest. That’s not the only reason,’ he went on doggedly, and took a deep breath. ‘It’s been obvious to me for some time that a physical relationship between us is never going to happen, Sarah. And, contrary to the impression I may give, I’m a pretty normal kind of man, with the usual male needs, you know.’
‘Oh, Brian, of course you are,’ said Sarah in remorse. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t fulfil them for you. I never meant to hurt you.’
‘I know that, my dear.’ He patted her hand. ‘So I’ll be straight with you, Sarah. I’ve met someone else. Amanda’s just joined the firm. I took her to the theatre when you cancelled, and we found we were—well—instantly compatible in that way. Highly compatible. In fact I spent most of the weekend with her. Something which was never possible with you, because of Davina. Amanda knows I’m with you tonight, of course,’ he added. ‘But she was very sporting about it.’
‘Good for her,’ managed Sarah, trying to get her head round the idea of Brian involved in a hot, passionate relationship.
‘I hope this isn’t too upsetting for you,’ he said, tugging at his tie. ‘I wouldn’t hurt you for the world.’
Sarah took a deep, steadying breath. ‘Brian, I’m not upset and I’m not hurt. Truly. In fact I’m very happy for you. Now, drive me home.’
When she got in Sarah went straight upstairs to break the news she knew very well would annoy Margaret Parker. ‘Sorry to interrupt, Grandma, but I thought you should know right away that Brian doesn’t want to see me any more.’
Margaret stared in horror. ‘Why ever not?’ Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘What did you do to offend him, you silly girl? Brian Collins is such a good catch. His father owns half of Pennington—’
‘It’s more a case of what I didn’t do,’ interrupted Sarah.
‘I don’t understand.’
Sarah met her grandmother’s eyes squarely. ‘Oh, I think you do. I know you dislike the word, but sex was to blame.’
Margaret stiffened. ‘Then you have only yourself to blame. You, of all people, know what happens when a woman drops into a man’s arms like a ripe plum!’
Sarah’s eyes flashed coldly. ‘You’ve got it all wrong, Grandma. Lack of sex was the problem. I never cared for Brian in that way. So he’s found someone who does. And good luck to him.’
Margaret Parker’s face was a study. ‘I—I see. I apologise,’ she added with difficulty.
‘Apology accepted.’ Sarah turned at the door for her parting shot. ‘And to top it all Brian came clean and admitted he couldn’t see himself as Davy’s stepfather.’
Feeling liberated after the departure of Brian from her life, Sarah rushed home from work the next afternoon to sit out in the garden and make the most of the heat wave. Not bothering to cook, she ate salad, and left the firm’s daily quota of mail until the evening, when it was cooler. Margaret Parker, in conciliatory mood after the misunderstanding over Brian, had added extra salad vegetables to the shopping she’d offered to undertake for Sarah, and never mentioned the subject again, adhering to the rule of non-interference kept to on both sides from the day Sarah had taken Davy to live in the house in Campden Road.
To achieve privacy and independence for both Sarah and herself, Margaret Parker had divided her home into two separate, self-contained apartments before they’d set up house together. Though she would have infinitely preferred a place of her own for herself and Davy, Sarah knew this wasn’t practical, and never forgot that she was a lot better off than many in her situation as a single parent. She had the huge advantage of a low-rent home, a steady, if not lavish, income from her job, and the knowledge that Davy’s education was financially secure at a reputable school. Even if it wasn’t the school of Sarah’s choice. And now Davy had started boarding Sarah enjoyed evenings out with friends made through her job—if she were honest, she enjoyed herself more with Esther and Maggie from the agency than dining out with Brian.
Although Sarah was happy enough with her life she was human enough to yearn sometimes for an extra dimension to it, a feeling which intensified the next morning, when she received a long-expected wedding invitation from Nick Morrell, her closest friend from college days. He enclosed a note, urging her to bring her current man with her and stay for the dance afterwards, and emphasised that the old crowd were all looking forward to seeing her again.
Sarah’s own standing within their group had been unique from the first. She had been afraid beforehand that her fatherless baby would be a handicap where friendships were concerned. But to her surprise and gratitude Davy’s existence had been accepted as part of life by the kindred spirits met at university, both male and female. Nick Morrell had been one of the friends close enough to invite home, to meet her parents and play with Davy, and they had kept in close touch ever since. But now Nick was acquiring a wife things would be a lot different.
Sarah mulled over the invitation as she walked to work, very much aware that if she went to the wedding she would be the only one of her group without a partner. Though even if they’d still been on that kind of footing Brian wouldn’t have served the purpose. Unless they’d undergone a sea change lately, her crowd were a flippant, wise-cracking bunch. Sober Brian, anything but, just wouldn’t have fitted in. But she had a new dress, she reminded herself. And the wedding was mid-week, so no problem with Davy. She was due some time off. All she needed were some shoes and a place to stay overnight. A wedding present