The Loving Gift. Carole MortimerЧитать онлайн книгу.
before you left,’ he insisted.
‘To apologise?’ Her eyes flashed warningly at his utter selfishness.
He did manage to look a little shame-faced. ‘I suppose I did go a little over the top a short while ago, but I was only—–'
‘Over the top?’ Jade repeated with soft anger. ‘You were utterly outrageous!'
He grinned. ‘I don't normally act in that impetuous way, it's just that—–'
‘I'm well aware of the way you normally act,’ she snapped, wishing she could have the usual Simon back again, instead of this virtual stranger.
‘—I was attracted to you the moment I entered the room,’ he concluded as if she hadn't interrupted so vehemently.
‘That you were—–! My God, Simon!’ Jade choked emotionally. ‘You've really gone too far now. That scene you created a little while ago I could maybe excuse because of the amount of alcohol you've apparently consumed, but to come here to me now, when Penny is obviously broken-hearted, is inexcusable.'
‘I was only—–'
‘Don't you dare touch me!’ she warned harshly as he would have reached out for her.
‘But I—–'
‘Don't say I didn't warn you!’ she choked at the same time as her hand made contact with the side of his face in a resounding slap.
Jade stared at him in horror after the uncharacteristic violence—and then she swayed dizzily as he began to laugh, a loudly triumphant laugh that convinced her he wasn't drunk, after all, but bordering on the insane! The strain of owning and running the school must have become too much for him. No one in their right mind laughed when they had been slapped the way he just had!
And then her own horror turned to a pained groan as Penny suddenly appeared in the doorway. She was terrified that the other woman would actually think she had been encouraging Simon in this madness. ‘Penny, I'm so sorry about all this, but I—–'
‘You have no reason to be sorry about anything,’ the other woman dismissed easily, gazing affectionately at the man in the Father Christmas suit as he still grinned idiotically, the only sign of her recent tears a slight puffiness about her eyes. ‘He always did have a warped sense of humour,’ she excused him indulgently.
Jade had never noticed it before! ‘I still wouldn't want you to think that I encouraged him,’ she insisted pleadingly.
Penny smiled. ‘I'm sure he didn't need encouraging.’ She shook her head.
It was wonderful that Penny could take her husband's errant behaviour in her stride—Jade wished she could come to terms with it as easily!
‘You really are incorrigible.’ Penny shook her head with rueful disapproval at the grinning ‘Father Christmas'. ‘If you have—–'
‘Darling, surely there has to be a better place for this conversation than a store-cupboard?’ Simon chided lightly as he appeared in the doorway behind his wife—wearing his usual school attire of tweed jacket and tailored trousers.
Jade froze as she stared at him, turning slowly to face the man in the Father Christmas suit. If it wasn't Simon—and she knew now without a doubt that it wasn't!—then who was he?
‘I'M TELLING you, Wellington, he almost met his Waterloo after that stupid stunt,’ Jade muttered as she poured the cream from the top of her milk into a saucer, giving a snort of disgust as the cat merely looked up at her with pitying eyes before turning his attention to the treat she had put down in front of him.
Jade watched the avid lapping of that delicate pink tongue for several seconds; Wellington certainly had the right idea, concentrating on his drink to the exclusion of all else certainly beat working yourself up into a temper because of the stupidity of some totally insensitive man!
Wellington had appeared on the doorstep of her rented cottage only her second day here, immediately earning his name, completely snowy white except for the four totally black feet that gave him the appearance of wearing Wellington boots.
In the beginning Jade had assumed the friendly cat had wandered over from one of the cottages close by, but after several days of returning home to find him sitting on the doorstep waiting for her she had found out from a neighbour that the cat belonged to no one, that the old lady who had once owned him had died some time ago and the cat hadn't let anyone near him since then, living wild.
Two strays together, Jade had thought ruefully. Whether he had sensed some need in her that matched his own, or whether he had just decided she looked soft-hearted enough to feed him without demanding too much in return, she didn't know. But, whatever the reason, he had made the cottage his home the last few months, and when the time came for Jade to leave she didn't know what she was going to do about him. Wellington had become her constant companion, her confidant, someone she could talk to without fear of judgement or rebuttal, and she believed that in his own feline way he had come to care for her too, curling up to sleep on the foot of her bed every night, like a sentinel on guard. But at the same time she knew she couldn't take him back to be cooped up in her rented apartment in London, and there was no way she could afford to buy a house of her own out of town.
But there could be no doubt that Wellington had attached himself to her, and she to him.
His drink finished to his satisfaction, he now strolled across to stretch himself out in front of the fire Jade had lit when she came in, proceeding to wash himself with leisurely strokes of his tongue, pausing in the task to look up at her enquiringly as he sensed her gaze upon him.
She quirked mocking brows. ‘So, you're finally ready to listen now, are you?’ she derided, putting the milk bottle away in the fridge before joining the cat in front of the fire, taking with her the cup of tea she had just poured for herself, knowing she had been right about his readiness to listen to her now as he contentedly began to wash again. ‘You're very definite about your priorities, aren't you, boy?’ she teased, absently stroking that silky fur, receiving a rasp of the pink tongue over her hand for her trouble.
She leant back against a chair, giving a pained sigh. ‘I have had the most awful afternoon, Wellington.’ She shook her head, thinking back to what had transpired after Simon had interrupted that conversation in the store-cupboard.
She had stared at ‘Father Christmas’ with wide, horrified eyes, noticing as she did so that her slap to the side of his face had knocked the flowing white beard slightly askew, some of it having parted with his cheek completely, revealing a face that, although very similar to Simon's in features, was obviously younger than the other man's, something that was unmistakable now that his face was more fully revealed.
Before she could say a word, ‘Father Christmas’ had burst into speech. ‘She slapped my face, Pen!’ he told the other woman excitedly before once again giving that triumphant laugh. And he didn't seem able to stop.
Jade looked from Penny to Simon, wondering why one of them didn't step forward and slap ‘Father Christmas's’ face again—this time for hysteria. But the couple just looked on bemusedly, and so it was left to Jade to take the initiative before the whole thing turned into more of a farce than it already was.
Because her victim was more of a moving target this time, her aim wasn't quite so good, and instead of making contact with the man's cheek she caught the side of his eye. To her horror, this only seemed to fuel his excitement!
‘My God, I'll probably have a black eye from that one,’ he cried excitedly. ‘Penny, Simon, do you realise what this means?'
Jade had more than a good idea; the man behind the Father Christmas suit was ever so slightly insane. No one in their right mind could possibly be pleased at having their face slapped, not once but twice! This man's disturbed state of mind might also explain Penny's ashen face when