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‘Oh, undoubtedly.’ Tully’s reply was too quick, and far too cordial. Lacey saw the deep glint in his eyes and stiffened in her chair, but all he said was, ‘I think I can do with another whisky, if you don’t mind, Lacey. No, don’t get up, I’ll fetch it.’ He turned to Julian. ‘Care to join me? Or can I get you some more white wine?’
After the briefest hesitation Julian said, ‘Thanks, I’ll join you with a whisky.’
‘Lacey?’
Lacey shook her head. ‘Not for me.’ This evening was definitely not going according to plan—the underlying friction was almost palpable. She could have done with a stiff drink, but a long time ago she’d had the value of a clear head in risky circumstances firmly implanted in her mind.
When Tully returned it was as though he’d decided to be as pleasant as possible for the remainder of the evening. He brought the whisky bottle with him, but after one glass Julian declined any more. ‘I have to drive home and pick up Desma on the way,’ he reminded them. ‘I can’t risk being over the limit.’
Tully poured himself another and nursed it while he questioned Julian about property values and the market forces, asked his opinion on a bill currently being debated in parliament designed to help lower-income home owners pay their mortgages, and listened with apparent attention to Julian’s exposition of the relative merits of fixed rate and variable loans.
He seemed content to let Julian take over the conversation, merely injecting an occasional remark or query—some of them, Lacey felt, oddly naive. By the time Julian moved on to explaining the impact of inflation on the building business, Lacey had to clench her jaws to hide an urge to yawn. She glanced at the electric clock on the wall, and saw Julian look at his watch.
With an exclamation of surprise, he stood up. ‘I have to go, I’m afraid. Can’t leave a teenager hanging about waiting at this hour. It’s been nice meeting you, Tully.’ He held out his hand and after a moment Tully rose and took it in his. ‘I hope you feel confident now that Emma will be in good hands. And I’m sure Lacey’s told you I have no objection at all to your continuing to see her as often as you like.’
Lacey waited for Tully to say he was leaving, too. When he didn’t she saw Julian to the door, and exchanged a hurried, unsatisfactory kiss with him before he drove off. Tully, she saw, had parked his Peugeot on the road.
When she returned to the living room Tully was sitting hunched forward with his head bent, his forearms resting on his knees. The glass in his hand was still half full of whisky.
She paused in the doorway, and without turning round he said, ‘Don’t just stand there. Come and sit down.’
She walked past the sofa, but as she made for one of the chairs again he reached out and fastened a hand on her wrist. ‘Not there.’ He pulled her down beside him. ‘I can’t talk to you when you’re halfway across the room.’
‘It’s only a few feet.’ She tugged her hand from his grasp, but stayed on the sofa.
Tully gave her a crooked little smile. ‘Don’t argue, woman. It’s friendlier this way.’ He leaned back into the corner of the sofa, his eyelids drooping as he regarded her. Now that he had her where he wanted her, he didn’t seem in a hurry to initiate conversation, so she decided to get in first.
‘Why did you send Emma into the kitchen, earlier?’ she asked him.
‘To help you.’
‘Not to get her away from Julian?’ she challenged him.
His eyelids flickered. ‘How did you guess?’
‘You admit it?’ She was dismayed to have her suspicion so readily confirmed. If he was going to be deliberately unhelpful...
‘She was showing signs of terminal boredom. I didn’t think you’d want her yawning in his face.’
“They were talking about horses! Which, thanks to you, she’s crazy about at the moment.’
‘Julian was talking, blinding the poor kid with science. She was way out of her depth.’ He made a small grimace and shrugged. ‘I guess he’s not used to dealing with a ten-year-old any more.’
Lacey supposed that was so. He had certainly had difficulty hitting the right note with Emma over the dinner table. ‘They need to get to know each other properly,’ she said hopefully. ‘Maybe Julian was trying a bit too hard tonight. He’s very anxious for her to like him.’
Tully shifted his shoulders against the sofa back and stretched out his legs, contemplating the toes of his shoes for a second or two before shooting a hard, dark glance her way. ‘Are you really in love with that guy?’
The faintly disbelieving note of near-contempt in his voice made her defensive. ‘Of course I love Julian. He’s a very nice person.’ She moved uneasily, trying to relax. Somehow it wasn’t his niceness that had shown up tonight. And in an obscure way she knew Tully was entirely responsible for that. ‘I don’t know what you were trying to do, but it won’t work, Tully.’
‘Trying to do?’ he asked innocently. ‘I thought I was being the almost perfect...guest.’
She noticed the hesitation. Technically he might be a guest, but his place in her daughter’s life made him more than that. Tonight he’d acted rather like a host trying his best to put a not-very-welcome guest at ease, and perhaps it was unfair of her to suspect any deliberation on his part. But she couldn’t help feeling that he had set out to demonstrate his familiarity with the house and its occupants, to make Julian feel like an outsider. He’d even acted with a subtle possessiveness towards Lacey herself.
As if he’d been following her thoughts, Tully asked, ‘Is where you’re going to live one of the things you and Julian haven’t discussed yet?’
‘We’re thinking about it. Julian’s house has three bedrooms, so the girls wouldn’t have to share a room. Or we could buy a new place.’
‘So what will you do with this?’
‘That’s up to you.’
‘It’s half yours.’
Lacey shook her head. ‘That was only a legal safeguard for Emma’s sake, in case something happened to you. You paid for it.’
He didn’t look pleased, but he apparently decided not to pursue the subject. Instead he stared broodingly at the dying fire, sipping at the whisky in his glass.
Lacey said quietly, ‘Things change. Emma will get used to new surroundings, new circumstances. So will you.’
He turned to look at her, his eyes sombre. ‘It won’t be the same... will it?’
‘No, it won’t be the same.’ She felt a twinge of sadness, a painful tug of regret, and deliberately hardened her heart. ‘But it needn’t affect your relationship with Emma.’
His mouth twisted in a strange sort of smile. ‘As a matter of fact, I wasn’t thinking of Emma. I was thinking of my relationship with you.’
‘With... me?’
‘We do have one, you know.’
‘Of course,’ she agreed. ‘As Emma’s parents...’
‘Is that the only way you see me? As Emma’s father?’
Lacey frowned uncertainly. What did he want her to say? Not for anything would she betray to him how difficult it had been to make herself think of him in that role alone, how long it had taken her to forsake foolish teenage dreams. If he wanted his ego stroked, there were plenty of other women who would do it for him—along with anything else he asked of them. ‘How else should I see you?’ she asked reasonably. ‘If it wasn’t for Emma we wouldn’t have a relationship at all.’
He looked at her with speculation, as if considering the question. ‘How can you be sure?’ With spurious humility, he added, ‘Hard to believe though it may be, most of the women I know don’t actually view me first and foremost as a father.’
She didn’t find it hard to believe at all. He had lost none of the male charisma he’d had at nineteen. If anything it had intensified with maturity, and in her case familiarity had not bred contempt, but rather a guarded awareness. Caught once in the trap of his careless sexuality, she had made up her mind a long time ago that she wasn’t going to walk into it again. ‘I’m sure they don’t,’ she said crisply. ‘Fortunately, I know you better than most women do.’
His head cocked to one side, he said, ‘I suppose you do.’ He paused. ‘Why “fortunately”?’
She’d hoped he wouldn’t pick up on that. ‘For one thing,’ she said hastily, ‘you don’t have to worry that I’ll try to drag you to the altar.’
His eyes were enigmatic, but very intent. ‘Until recently I thought you had a distinct aversion to the state of matrimony yourself.’
‘I never said that.’
‘Mm. I gather that the aversion was to me.’
‘Not to you personally. To the idea of marriage with you.’
‘There’s a difference?’
‘Of course there’s a difference. Marrying just to give Emma two parents would have been disastrous.’
‘I agree it probably would have been when we were both teenagers. Although...’ He shrugged. ‘Who knows? It might have worked out okay.’
Lacey shook her head. ‘We were too young.’
‘Too young to be parents? I guess so—objectively. But Emma’s okay.’
‘Yes. At least we got that right.’
‘You did. I’m well aware that I’m only a part-time father. And now...’ she was surprised at the fierce regret she saw in his face ‘...some one else may get the chance that I never had.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said awkwardly. ‘I didn’t know you felt so strongly about it.’
‘Didn’t you?’ His glance was almost hostile, before he got up and went to stand looking at the remains of the fire, his hand resting on the mantel above it. ‘No,’ he said. ‘How could you? I hardly knew myself.’ He turned to look at her searchingly. ‘You’re entitled to look for a bit of happiness. Heaven knows I’ve no right stop you. But are you sure it’s Julian you want?’
‘I’m old enough now to know exactly what I want,’ she said unequivocally, pushing away a small, nagging doubt. Of course she and Julian had a tacit understanding that much depended on their children’s reactions, but neither of them had expected any major problems to arise.
Why, just when Tully seemed to be capitulating completely to the idea, did she suddenly feel afraid, unsure of herself and of the future to which she’d virtually committed both herself and Emma? Saying it aloud in an unconscious effort to dispel the fear, she declared, ‘Julian and I love each other. I’ve told him I’ll marry him, and that’s what I intend to do.’
He looked at her silently, apparently weighing her answer.
Moving restlessly under his probing gaze, Lacey said, ‘So can I count on you letting Emma know that it’s all right with you?’
‘Don’t rush me,’ he said softly, and although his eyes remained on her face she had the impression that his mind had gone off on a tangent. ‘I’m thinking about it.’
‘How long do you need to think?’
He came away from the mantel. ‘I’ll let you know. Julian said there’s no hurry...’
That last almost sounded like a question, but she didn’t comment.
Stopping in front of her, he put a hand lightly under her chin, stooping towards her.
Remembering the last time he’d kissed her goodbye, Lacey instinctively turned her face aside.
His fingers tightened, forcing her to look at him. He was close; she could see the fine lines at the corners of his eyes, and as she watched his pupils dilated, filled with dark fire. She saw her own uplifted face reflected in them, felt an answering lick of fire deep inside her, an unwilled hunger.
Then Tully released her and stepped back. His chest moved with a quick breath. Somehow he looked nearly as disconcerted as Lacey felt.
She stood up. ‘I’ll see you out.’
‘Don’t bother.’
He gave her another probing, appraising look and left her staring rather blankly after him as he strode out of the room. A minute later she heard the outer door close.
CHAPTER THREE
WHEN Tully telephoned her a few days later Lacey’s first hope was that he’d thought over her suggestion and decided to agree.
But instead he said, ‘I’ve been inveigled into taking part in a charity “Welcome to Spring” water derby at Mission Bay on Sunday. I thought Emma might like to come along and watch her. old man get a dunking or two.’
‘I’m sure she’d love it. I’ll ask her for you.’
‘You’d have to come, too. I don’t want to leave her on her own, especially near water. She could bring along a friend if she wants to, but they’d need an adult nearby.’
‘No convenient girlfriend at the moment?’ Lacey inquired rather dryly.
‘No current girlfriend,’ he confirmed. ‘So, are you free?’
On Saturday she and Julian had planned to introduce their daughters to each other over a Chinese brunch at a restaurant in the city and take them to a film. But Sunday they’d decided to spend apart. ‘I can come,’ she said. ‘What time shall we be there?’
‘There could be parking problems, but I’ve got a competitor’s pass. I’ll pick you up about ten.’
Emma had invited her friend Riria along, and they sat in the back seat of the car chattering while Lacey asked Tully, ‘How, exactly, did you get inveigled into this?’
‘I’m a ring-in. Some of the guys in the firm have been practising for weeks—we’ve been sponsoring their entry—but one of them came down with some kind of bug yesterday. It was going to be difficult finding a replacement at short notice, so I got volunteered for the job.’
‘It’s a team effort?’
‘There are some individual events but I’m part of a team, yes. We rack up points for every event entered, then the big one is the raft race at the end. Apparently anything goes, short of drowning the opposition.’
‘Sounds like fun,’ Lacey said.
‘It sounds highly uncomfortable. And I expect you and Emma to give due appreciation to my efforts for the cause.’
‘What do we do? Sponsor you? Lay bets on you?’
‘There’ll be people going round with buckets for donations. But I meant you can cheer me on... and cheer me up if we lose.’
‘What if you win?’
‘Ah! Then I expect the usual winner’s perks.’
‘I didn’t know I was supposed to bring a laurel wreath.’
He glanced at her. ‘It wasn’t a laurel wreath I was thinking of.’ His gaze slipped to her mouth briefly before he returned his attention to the road.
About to snap at him, I’m not one of your girlfriends! she stopped herself. He hadn’t said anything, really. And even if he had meant what she thought—which he had—it was only banter. That kind of thing came naturally to him; she’d been deflecting it for years without particularly thinking about it.
The day turned out to be a lot of fun, at least for the enthusiastic onlookers gathered on the grassy reserve along the beach front, and watching from balconies and vantage points among the houses and commercial buildings a road’s width from the beach. The Waitemata was dotted with small sailing craft dipping and twirling between the bay and the gentle distant slopes of Rangitoto, the island volcano that dominated the harbour.
Officially it was the first day of spring, and balmy sunshine promised a real New Zealand summer, but the water temperature was still wintry.
There were novelty swimming races for the hardy-or foolhardy—involving balloons, inflatable toys and various other props. Dressed in a wetsuit, Tully took part in a couple of those with his team, and they came second in a round-the-buoy relay. Emma was ecstatic when he returned to them after he had changed back into jeans and a woollen shirt, his damp hair slick and black.
To vary the programme a team of life-savers gave a demonstration, and there was a race between three long Maori canoes, their crews sporting the swirling blue patterns of traditional tattoos on their faces, most of them applied with ink but a few the genuine article. The event was one of the most thrilling of the day, the paddles flashing in and out of the water in an increasingly fast rhythm. Afterwards the winners performed a rousing victory haka on the beach, delighting the spectators.
Emma declared she was hungry, and Tully handed her some money and sent her off with Riria to the mobile stands selling hot dogs, chips, waffles and doughnuts.
He and Lacey stood watching the two girls thread their way through the crowd. A gust of wind blew Lacey’s hair across her eyes and she pushed it back, the movement catching Tully’s attention. He looked down at her and smiled. ‘Sometimes you look so much like Emma—or she like you.’
‘She’s like you!’ Lacey said, startled.
‘Her colouring, yes. But in the shape of her face she takes after you, and her hair’s fine and soft like yours...’ Idly he reached out a hand, lifting the strands and letting them fall against her cheek. Then, before she could do it, he carefully booked them behind her ear, his fingers brushing her cheek, lingering a little before he let his hand fall.
Lacey found it difficult to wrench her gaze away from his, and instinctively she took a half step back.
It’s nothing, she assured herself as she deliberately searched for and found Emma’s bright jacket. Tully was an attractive man, she’d always known that. It wasn’t the first time over the years that she had become momentarily—momentarily, she assured herself—acutely conscious of it. Few women would have been totally unmoved by him. Yet he’d probably be astonished if she told him that his casual gesture had made her blood race.
When the girls came back with the food Tully found a sheltered spot on the grass for them to sit on. Perhaps it was the presence of her friend, Lacey thought, but Emma was clearly having a much more enjoyable time than she’d had the day before, when Julian had taken them and Desma out.
The girls had eyed each other like a couple of wary puppies over the restaurant table, and while Emma was quiet and polite, Desma seemed to have an air of wellcultivated boredom.
During the film, a romantic comedy rated suitable for family viewing, they sat together between the two adults, and although they laughed at the comic incidents, when Julian enquired afterwards if they’d enjoyed it, Emma said without enthusiasm, ‘Yes, thank you.’
Desma had shrugged. ‘It was okay, I s’pose...’
As they parted, Julian’s rueful eyes had met Lacey’s. Well, they hadn’t expected too much of this initial meeting. But at least it was a start.
Later Tully got back into his wetsuit for the main event of the day, a team competition involving a water-based obstacle course, makeshift rafts, and a great deal of skulduggery on the part of the contestants, including flour bombs, water pistols and even fire hoses. Tully and his crew survived by a combination of skill and cunning, unfairly disabling most of the opposition, whose craft were clearly less expertly designed. His team was one of only two remaining contenders heading neck and neck for the finish line to a deafening roar from the crowd when a swell from a motorised boat further out to sea hit the two rafts, which veered towards each other and collided, pitching several of their occupants into the sea.
Rescue boats were at hand in case of mishaps, but for a second or two Lacey’s heart was in her mouth as she counted the heads bobbing in the water before identifying Tully’s seal-sleek one.
Emma, who had been jumping up and down and squealing with excitement, fell quiet, and Lacey put a hand on her shoulder. ‘Daddy’s okay,’ she said, looking down at her daughter’s crestfallen face. ‘And it doesn’t matter if they don’t win.’
She glanced back at the water and saw that some of his crew had clambered back on board the raft, but now she couldn’t see Tully.
She searched the choppy water with her eyes, then returned her gaze to the raft in case she’d missed him. No, none of those on board had his tall, broad-shouldered leanness combined with his dark hair. And all of them were looking over the side at the water.
Where was he? Lacey’s hand unconsciously tightened on Emma’s delicate shoulder bones.
Then two heads broke the water close to one of the rescue boats, and the crowd murmured to each other and raised hands to shade their eyes and see better against the glinting sun as a limp form was hauled onto its deck. Blood trickled down a whitened face.
‘That’s Daddy!’ Emma said excitedly.
Lacey’s breath stopped, until she saw what Emma meant. Tully was still in the water, leaning on the gunwale for a few seconds, then lifting a hand to the men in the boat as he pushed himself away.
He swam back to the raft, and the two crews sorted themselves out and completed the race, Tully’s coming in just barely ahead of the other.
Almost before they touched the sand he leapt off and, brushing aside well-wishers and congratulations, strode to where the rescue boat had come into shore, a couple of ambulance officers racing to meet it.
‘Is the man all right?’ Emma turned an anxious face to her mother.
‘I don’t know.’ A knot of people was gathering, and she couldn’t see what was going on.
An ambulance drove down near to the beach and the crowd fell back. There was a short pause before the vehicle went off, and then she saw Tully coming towards them.
Emma and Riria ran to meet him, and Lacey hurried along behind them.
‘Is he badly hurt?’ Lacey asked. ‘What happened?’
‘He must have banged his head as he went over. He blacked out for a few seconds but came round almost as soon as we got him into the boat. They’ve taken him to hospital for observation, but he’ll most likely be fine.’
Emma said, ‘You saved his life, didn’t you, Daddy?’ Tully looked down at her and laughed. ‘Not really. The rescue boats are there for that. I just helped a bit.’
Someone called his name, and he said, ‘Sorry, they want me for the victory ceremony. Don’t go away.’
Emma dragged Riria and Lacey after him to watch the team collect a gaudy trophy and a giant bottle of champagne that they showered all over each other and a good part of the crowd, who didn’t seem to mind.
On the way home, they stopped by the injured man’s home to make sure his wife knew what had happened and that she didn’t need any help, then dropped off Riria.
After swinging the car into the drive and pulling on the brake, Tully put his hand momentarily over Lacey’s. ‘Thanks for coming with Emma.’
She gave a small gasp. ‘Tully, you’re frozen!’
‘My hands are a bit chilled, maybe.’
His skin had felt icy against hers, although the car heater had been on. ‘Come inside,’ she said. ‘I’ll make you a hot drink.’
He looked faintly amused, but didn’t argue. Emma was already out of the car and waiting on the step for Lacey to unlock the door.
‘Would you like a warm bath?’ Lacey asked him when they were all inside.
‘Sounds tempting,’ he admitted. She saw now that his face had a pinched look that was unlike him. He gave an involuntary shiver, and she said, ‘Emma, fetch your father a towel from the airing cupboard—a big one. Go on,’ she urged him. ‘You know where the bathroom is.’
She switched on the electric jug before shedding her jacket and going to hang it in her bedroom. There was a heater in the hallway and she turned up the thermostat on her way back to the kitchen. Taking down the coffee jar, she paused at the sight of the whisky bottle pushed into the corner of the cupboard, then reached in and took it out.
She poured a generous shot into a glass, added minimal water, and made for the bathroom and tapped on the door. ‘Can I come in?’
‘Okay.’
She pushed open the door and found him lying back in the bath, his head turned enquiringly towards her. He had the tub half-filled with steaming water, but the scanty bubbles of soap on the surface weren’t hiding anything.
‘I didn’t realise you were already in the bath,’ she said, almost retreating, then changing her mind. That would be silly, and probably afford him some amusement. ‘I thought you might like a whisky.’ Fixing her eyes on his face, she advanced towards him and placed the glass in the hand he held out for it, then immediately backed away. ‘Coffee will be ready when you’ve finished in here.’
‘Thanks. You do know how to pamper a man, Lacey. You wouldn’t care to scrub my back, would you?’