‘Let me stop you there,’ she said when he began to explain. ‘I understand that a man like you can probably do anything he pleases, but that first you have to make sure your people are safe and Qalala’s boundaries are strong. I accept that those boundaries can be extended to Qalala’s advantage through marriage—which is exactly why I must plough my own furrow.’
‘I care for you more than you know,’ he said fiercely.
‘Then, let me go,’ Lucy said, her eyes welling with tears.
‘I can’t,’ he admitted grimly. ‘I want you and I want our child, here in Qalala.’
‘But when it comes to your duty, you can’t. Tadj, there is no easy way.’
‘No quick way, certainly,’ he agreed.
He could offer Lucy nothing at this precise moment, and he would not raise her hopes with empty promises. ‘Whatever you decide,’ he rapped out.
Now it came to losing her, reality had struck home forcibly, so that each word he uttered to ease her journey home was like a dagger in his heart.
‘You will both be well provided for,’ he added in a clipped tone to hide how that made him feel.
Lucy actually flinched as if he’d hit her. ‘You’re buying me off,’ she said.
‘I will do my duty by you,’ he confirmed stiffly.
‘If you can’t see how that hurts me, I think we’re both right; I must go. There’s nothing left to say,’ she added. ‘But no money. I’ve never been interested in your material wealth. It’s you I care about,’ she admitted. ‘And you care about Qalala, which is how it should be. We’re both bound by promises we’ve made: you to your country, and me to myself. I don’t want half a life like my mother endured, always hoping things will be better. I want to seize life and work hard to provide for my baby. Qalala wouldn’t want half your attention, and neither do I. But I do worry about you.’
‘You worry about me?’ he queried sceptically.
‘Yes. If you can’t find a way to combine your personal hopes and dreams with what’s best for Qalala, I worry that you’ll never be happy. And I don’t want to make things worse for you, by pulling you this way and that. Nor do I want our baby to grow up with parents at war. It’s better that we live apart, and can be happy when we’re with our child, than we live together and make each other miserable.’
He took a long time to answer, and then he said coolly, ‘That decision is up to you. I would never keep you here against your will.’
‘No,’ Lucy argued gently, ‘that’s up to both of us. Because I know you can’t change, I’m going to keep to my timetable, and go home as I said I would. I had imagined that when we’d toured the mine, we’d talk and plan for our baby, but you’re not ready to do that yet, and maybe you never will be.’
‘The sapphire mines bring prosperity to my people, and I won’t apologise for focusing on them, because you need to understand what a vital part they play in Qalala’s future. You could help with that. You say you want to understand this part of your child’s heritage, so stay, and try to accept that my duty to Qalala and its people will always come before my own selfish personal desires.’
‘But if you’re not happy, how can your people be happy?’ Lucy argued with her usual sound common sense. ‘And where does our child fit into your master plan? A child changes everything.’
‘Do you think I don’t know that?’
‘Changes everything for both of us, I mean,’ she said.
He wasn’t used to being lectured and he turned away. ‘I suppose you expect me to take you home?’ he declared when he was calmer.
‘Back to King’s Dock?’ Lucy queried. ‘I’m pretty sure I can find my own way back. I’m equally sure that my going home will be better for both of us. I’ll send you my proposal for the exhibition as soon as I’ve got something to show you. And then, if you’re agreeable, I’ll take part in meetings online with the team. I don’t see a problem handling things that way going forward.’
She was alone in that.
‘And when it comes to putting my plans into practice,’ she added, ‘I’ll happily travel anywhere necessary to make sure the team doesn’t encounter any snags along the way.’
‘With your baby strapped to your back?’ he queried tensely.
‘If I have to.’
‘This is our child you’re talking about. The child whose upbringing I will take full part in.’
Apprehension flashed across Lucy’s face, but she rallied fast to add, ‘Then, we’d better make time to talk. As you said, the clock is ticking.’
‘I’m sure you’ve got it all worked out,’ he commented bitterly.
‘Don’t be angry,’ she begged. ‘I want you to know how much I appreciate this opportunity—’
‘Stop! Stop right now,’ he insisted. He was done with the emotional battering. ‘Make this project part of your final assessment at college.’
‘I will,’ she said, latching onto his cool tone with what he thought might even be relief.
They really wrung it out of each other, he thought as they stared unblinking into each other’s eyes. The bond between them was as tight as ever, and would remain so when their child was born, but when it came to the most basic human feelings they were both hopeless communicators.
‘I’ll miss you,’ Lucy said in a wry, offhand way, but her eyes were sad.
‘You don’t have to go home right away.’
‘I do,’ she insisted. ‘I’ve got your brief for the exhibition safe in my head, and we’ll keep in touch. We can talk online and make arrangements when my due date is closer.’
To discuss the future of their child via a screen over the internet reminded him of a child sitting on a suitcase, split between countries and two sets of people, one with generous hearts, who had wanted him to join them out of love they weren’t afraid to show, while the others’ social lives were more important. His worst nightmare was to be that type of parent. ‘I’ll be in touch regularly,’ he said.
‘Better that we get on with our lives,’ Lucy told him.
Raising barriers so neither of them could see the future was as much his fault as hers, he supposed. His loathing for her stepfather and the damage that man had done to Lucy quadrupled as she turned away to hide her tears. Once hurt, never mended, he thought as they faced up to the long journey home.
LEAVING QALALA WAS AGONY. Leaving on a commercial flight, which Lucy had insisted on taking, only made things worse, because she had to hide her emotions and pretend her heart wasn’t breaking. That shouldn’t have been too hard for someone who had learned to guard her feelings growing up, but it was, because she might be as buttoned up as Tadj, but surely they should have been able to talk and make plans for their baby? Wasn’t that more important than visits to a mine, and schemes for an exhibition?
They were both at fault, Lucy concluded. Tadj was duty-bound to Qalala, and refused to grant himself a private life, while she was equally inflexible when it came to remaining independent. Imagining Tadj marrying for the good of his country tore her up inside. It would destroy him, as well as his wife and any children they might have. Was that the reward of duty? If so, duty was a vindictive mistress, and it was up to Tadj to change things in Qalala. She couldn’t