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One Moment At Sunrise. Karen AldousЧитать онлайн книгу.

One Moment At Sunrise - Karen  Aldous


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      ‘Seb, I need to do more. I need something to occupy me. ‘If I had more to do… A job maybe, to get me out.’

      He sat slumped, engrossed in the screen. He was obviously bored and had switched off. Was she just going to continue sitting around, waiting for him to fulfil his music career? She could be old and grey and yet still waiting for him to step back from his first love – his fame – and still Charlotte wouldn’t know her father, or anyone else come to that.

      Seb cricked his neck. Evie sensed either he wasn’t comfortable with the idea or wasn’t listening. He was difficult to read and she needed to know. She took another sip of wine and crossed her legs while he scratched his chin and surveyed his empty glass.

      ‘Why? You’ve got everything you need. Anyway, you enjoy reading.’

      She grabbed the remote from his hand and pressed the mute. ‘Seb, listen to me,’ she demanded, surprised at her impulsive pluck. ‘If I worked, it would help our relationship too. I wouldn’t resent you being away so much if I had a job. I would be happier and Charlotte could go to a good crèche and make friends. Even if I worked two or three morning a week. In fact, I could help out financially too and pay for a computer myself.’

      ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Where are all these ideas coming from? You don’t need to work. You have more than enough income to live. I don’t know what’s got into you.’

      ‘But that’s just it. I exist. I want to live a little more. It would be nice to take Charlotte to the zoo or buy her a treat or a nice little dress. What spare cash I have, I save for her birthday, or Christmas.’

      ‘The income is so that you bring Charlotte up, not for luxury trips and flouncy dresses. I want you to bring her up, not some childminder who doesn’t even care about her. I won’t have you working, Evie. I won’t. Do you hear?’

      She tentatively bit her lip.

      ‘You’re right Seb, but at least let me try and prove to you that I can work without it affecting our relationship. We could all benefit.’

      ‘Hey, Evie, listen to me.’ Seb pulled her to his chest. ‘You don’t need a job. You have one, looking after our daughter. You’ve got me wrong. Of course I want to be here. I want to see more of Charlotte, and you, and I want our relationship to work. It’s hard, that’s all. My head is in a different place much of the time. You have to understand.’ He squeezed her arm. ‘I’ll get you another drink. I bought some tasty Roquefort. Fancy some?’

      Evie shook her head. ‘Just a small glass of wine, thank you,’ she said, biting her cheek and pulling long tendrils of hair to her chest as Seb stood up. That was too much. She could risk everything she and Charlotte had. She could push him too far and the last thing they needed was to be homeless with no funds at all. She had nowhere to go.

      Seb returned with the wine and cheese, placing them down on the table. He sat beside her and pecked her gently again on her lips. ‘I’m sorry. It’s not easy, I’m sure. If I made millions, I would have you with me, but this business is tough.’

      Twisting her mouth, she gave a reluctant nod.

      Lifting his hand, he gently cupped her chin. ‘Tell you what, I’ll increase your allowance a bit, how’s that?’ he said, planting a tender peck on her nose.

      Hugging herself, again she nestled deeper into the sofa. Leave it, she told herself. Perhaps she was being unreasonable and should count herself lucky. He had agreed to up her allowance, she couldn’t really argue… but then why did she feel he’d just reeled her in again?

      Evie woke when she heard Charlotte. Seb was out for the count and she slipped out of the bedroom and into their child’s room, her head throbbing from too much alcohol and not enough sleep. As Charlotte chatted away to her toys in the cot, Evie gave a grateful smile, blew her a kiss and, closing the door, nestled into the nursery chair. She’d lain awake for hours trying to think of ways to make her relationship with Seb work, but how could it work if his absence continued and she was so restricted. What difference would it make to him if she had a little job? It’s not like she was intending to jet off around the world. She’d be on a computer at home or just cycling locally. What had she really signed up to here? It wasn’t what she had anticipated, that’s for sure. But then, she had rushed in thinking Seb Wilde was mad about her and was buying them all a home to live in happily ever after, despite the warnings from her family. Had she been so deluded?

      She hadn’t known Seb very long, only seven weeks in fact, when she’d discovered she was pregnant. At the beginning of their relationship, Seb was so sweet, their early romance fun and so loving. They seemed to have so much in common, both lovers of Stephen King books – often reading them to one another – they enjoyed watching the hilarious antics of the actor Will Ferrell, and listening to the seductive melancholic tones of singer Adele. Seb made her feel special, driving around in his open jeep around the island of Majorca, through the mountains, among the orange and lemon groves, walking along the beautiful beach close to his villa. They were a beautiful couple in love. Or so she thought.

      The bliss soon spun to brutality when she’d burst out from the bathroom with the stick of evidence, thinking how delighted he would be. He’d claimed he’ loved her, after all. But his reaction completely stunned her. The condemnation in his eyes created a permanent scar inside her and what he’d immediately suggested still to this day reverberated in her ears.

      ‘I’ll ring the clinic. You can get rid of it straightaway,’ he’d said. ‘No hesitation, no thought, just a rote response, like she’d discovered a rat in the bathroom.

      ‘But it’s my child. Our child. I can’t.’

      ‘I don’t know that.’

      ‘But you’re the only one…’

      ‘Don’t give me that crap. I guarantee you will live to regret having that child.’

      Evie’s heart had crumpled on the spot. ‘Seb, don’t joke. That’s cruel.’

      He jumped out of the bed and didn’t return until the following morning.

      It had got worse, far worse, over the next week. They’d argued so much. He’d been as adamant to terminate the pregnancy as she’d been to keep it. It was killing the relationship. It broke her heart to see how vicious Seb Wilde could be and in her anger, she’d actually threatened to make it public. Something she’d vowed to herself she wouldn’t do, but in desperation to keep the child, the words rushed out. ‘I’ll tell the press what a bastard you really are.’ His hand had then reached for her throat. He’d forced her backwards against the wall. Yes, he’d been pushed to his limit but so had she. That was the final straw. She’d taken about as much abuse as she could stomach and returned to England, having made up her mind she would manage alone.

      Naturally, her sister and parents agreed it wasn’t the best idea but she couldn’t face the alternative. He’d then rung three or four times a week to dissuade her, but her mind was fixed. Then three weeks later, he’d turned up on her doorstep turning back on his charm, concerned about his reputation more than anything else, but with an offer Evie couldn’t resist – to choose where she wanted to live so that they could move in together. The cost to her family was high, however. He’d persuaded her it was the best thing all round. In fact, within weeks, he’d transformed from Satan back to Angel Gabriel, promising everything. The future looked hopeful.

      Even though she’d understood Seb’s music career would take precedence, he was away far more than she had anticipated. In fact – apart from the first few weeks after Charlotte was born – when she added it up, he’d only stayed here about ten or twelve weeks in total over the last few years. He’d missed his daughter’s first smile, sitting up for the first time, first words, and her first steps. All those exciting moments which parents love to share.

      ‘Mummy, milk Mummy.’ Charlotte broke her trance.


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