Megan of Merseyside Page 18

  As Miles took her case she patted the dog’s smooth, black coat and let him nuzzle her hand. Then she followed Miles into the house.

  ‘I’m starving,’ he said, dumping her case in the hallway and tossing her coat over a chair.

  He led the way through to a large kitchen fitted out with oak cupboards and units. In the centre, a round oak table was laid ready for two people.

  ‘Hope you like these,’ he said as he took two jacket potatoes from the oven and placed one on each plate. ‘Sit down. Help yourself to salad and cheese.’

  It wasn’t the most romantic start to the evening, Megan decided, but she had to admit the hot meal was very welcome. And it certainly helped to dispel the tension she’d felt building up ever since she had left Beddgelert.

  ‘We can leave these for Sybil Jones to do in the morning,’ Miles told her as he stacked their used dishes onto the draining board.

  He picked up a tray. ‘Come on, we’ll take this through into the sitting room.’

  He produced a bottle of whisky and insisted that Megan should have some of it with her coffee. The fiery liquid seared her throat and brought tears to her eyes, but it also dispersed the very last traces of the apprehension that had filled her mind ever since she’d left Beddgelert.

  ‘Shoes off, feet up,’ Miles instructed, indicating the comfortable settee drawn up in front of the log fire. Tiny bursts of desire bubbled up inside her as he slipped his arm around her, cuddling her close as they watched the flickering firelight. Her rapid breathing betrayed her turbulent emotions when his hands slid down from her shoulders to fondle her breasts and then moved sensuously over the outline of her hip as she lay pressed against him.

  Megan shivered expectantly as Miles suddenly stood up and began leading her upstairs to his bedroom.

  She had no idea where he’d put her suitcase. All the finery she had packed for their first night was no longer of any importance. All that did matter was that they were alone together.

  Their undressing became feverish, clothes discarded like fallen leaves, piled indiscriminately. The passion that now burned between them overcame Megan’s modesty.

  She had often dreamed of them being naked together; now she gloried in it. With a feeling of ecstasy she ran her hands over his smooth, tanned flesh.

  She shuddered and gave a moan of joy as his lips encompassed one of her erect nipples. As her body arched, his responded. A hot hardness pressing against her thighs sent a shiver of burning anticipation through her. There was no holding back now; she wanted him: she was ready to give herself utterly and completely.

  As their bodies melded, strange heats and a stab of searing pain flared inside her, leaving her dazed by their intensity. Moments later, she knew a fulfilment that made the waiting all the more worthwhile.

  Utterly spent, his groan of exhaustion was sweet music to Megan’s ears. She cradled his head on her breast as they both drifted into a contented sleep.

  She woke to the harsh screech of gulls, just as dawn was fingering the curtains, aware that she was quite naked.

  Had it been a dream?

  She turned and saw Miles’ dark head on the pillow beside her and the memory of all that had happened the night before came flooding back.

  She stretched out a hand and traced the firm outline of his profile. The square chin, the broad, tanned brow. She ran her fingers through his dark wavy hair and then drew back, startled, when she saw he was watching her through half-closed lids.

  Before she could speak he grabbed her, pulling her body across his. His blue eyes gleamed as his hands cupped her buttocks, pressing her against him, his need urgent.

  ‘Quick,’ he breathed. ‘Before Mrs Jones catches us!’

  They made love again before breakfast. She wondered how he was going to explain her being there to the housekeeper, but when Sybil Jones arrived she accepted Megan’s presence without question. Megan felt relieved and wondered if perhaps Miles had told her in confidence about their engagement.

  ‘I’ll leave a chicken casserole in the oven for your evening meal. And you can have fresh fruit or biscuits and cheese to follow, if that’s all right.’

  ‘That will do fine,’ Miles told her.

  The rest of their time together was like an extended dream. They visited Conway, explored the Castle and walked the length of the medieval walls before returning to Mostyn, to their casserole and another night of erotic love-making.

  Miles was already dressed when she woke next morning. As they ate breakfast he seemed uneasy.

  Jason’s frenzied barking sent him rushing to the window.

  ‘It’s only Rhys Jones,’ he revealed in relief.

  ‘Who did you think it might be?’

  ‘My parents are coming for the weekend. They don’t usually arrive before midday, but they could be here early, you can never tell.’

  The spell was broken.

  Miles’ goodbye kiss was a perfunctory peck on her cheek. His anxiety for her to be on her way was so obvious that Megan felt shocked. Too choked to say anything, she made her way to her car feeling belittled and bitterly hurt.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  MEGAN HAD BEEN away for four days before Kathy Williams accepted the fact that unless she went and did some shopping there would be nothing to put on the table when Watkin came home from work that night.

  The previous evening she’d served up beans on toast and expected Watkin to complain, but he said nothing at all, simply cleared his plate in silence then commented, ‘You’d better do some shopping or we’ll have no food in the house over the weekend!’

  ‘Megan can do it when she gets home,’ Kathy replied sullenly.

  ‘Don’t talk daft!’ growled Watkin. ‘We don’t know what time she’ll be back and after driving all the way from North Wales she won’t want to go out shopping for food, now will she?’

  ‘I don’t want to go out shopping for food, either,’ Kathy retorted. ‘Why couldn’t she have seen to things before she went gadding off on holiday?’

  ‘Come on, be fair now. Megan’s not responsible for running the house, now is she?’

  ‘Who is then?’

  ‘You are, of course,’ he told her gently.

  Kathy looked at him blankly, then her face clouded and tears glistened. ‘It mattered when I had little Lynn to look after. She needed me.’ She gave a sigh that ended in a shudder.

  ‘You’ve still got me and Megan to look after,’ Watkin told her, his voice a little unsteady.

  ‘Megan!’ She stiffened. ‘Megan’s not here! Anyway, she doesn’t need me to look after her.’

  ‘The girl needed a break, Kathy,’ Watkin told her reproachfully. ‘She’s waited a long time for this little holiday so don’t begrudge her the chance to see her friends at Beddgelert.’

  ‘She should be here when I need her,’ argued Kathy dully.

  ‘She’s been at your beck and call for months now, cariad. High time you started to fend for yourself.’

  ‘That’s right, take her part … but then you always did. Never put yourself out for our Lynn, though, did you?’

  ‘I treated both of them the same.’

  ‘Nonsense! Did you buy our Lynn a motorcar the same as you did Megan? No!’ She rushed on, not giving him a chance to reply, ‘If Lynn had had a car like our Megan then she wouldn’t have needed to cadge a lift on a motorbike and she’d still be alive.’

  ‘You’re talking utter rubbish,’ growled Watkin.

  ‘I’m not and you know it,’ argued Kathy, her eyes glittering, her mouth tight. ‘You always treated Megan differently to our Lynn. Even when we lived in Beddgelert you’d go off up that old mountain with Megan, but never once did you take little Lynn along with you.’

  ‘And with good reason! Lynn hated walking, that’s why.’

  ‘Lynn was a good little walker. She’d walk round the shops with me all day …’

  ‘She hated walking along country lanes. She didn’t enjoy watching the fish swimming in the Glaslyn, o
r the eagles soaring on the up-currents around Moel Hebog.’

  ‘Lynn had more go in her than Megan, that’s why. She didn’t spend her time mooning around, she lived life to the full … what she had of it,’ choked out Kathy, dabbing her eyes.

  ‘Look, cariad,’ Watkin said placing a hand on his wife’s shoulder, ‘you’ve got to try and come to terms with what’s happened. Go and do some shopping, go for a walk, meet people … see something of what goes on outside these four walls.’

  ‘It’s easy for you to talk,’ Kathy replied, sniffing and shrugging his hand away. ‘You have your precious work to occupy your mind. I’m left here on my own all day, surrounded by memories. Sometimes it’s as if Lynn’s right here; her voice is all around me … I couldn’t forget about her if I wanted to.’

  After Watkin left for work Kathy stood staring out of the window. She knew he was right. She’d have to make herself go out. Perhaps she’d walk to the shops in Liscard.

  She turned from the window and buried her face in her hands. It was no good. She wasn’t ready to face people yet. She couldn’t stand the thought of people asking her how she was, knowing they were remembering the accident and trying to avoid mentioning Lynn’s name. Yet she couldn’t stay in the house for ever.

  A walk in Central Park might be the answer, she decided. If she met anyone she knew she’d keep on walking and not give them the chance to ask questions about Lynn.

  Three times Kathy put on her coat. Once she even opened the front door and stepped outside. Then her courage deserted her and she rushed back indoors.

  There was nothing at all for Watkin’s supper when he came home from work. ‘I did try,’ she told him. ‘Tomorrow … I promise I’ll go to the shops.’

  ‘Fish and chips for us both tonight, is it cariad?’ he said with forced cheerfulness. ‘Put the kettle on and cut some bread and butter, while I go and fetch them.’

  ‘There’s no bread left, Watkin.’

  ‘I’ll get some extra chips and a portion of peas.’

  Breakfast for them both next morning was a cup of black tea.

  ‘Could you pick up some bread and a pint of milk and a pound of sausages on your way home?’ Kathy asked.

  ‘No! Remember your promise last night? Today you definitely go to the shops, so no more excuses. I’ll expect to find a meal waiting when I get in tonight.’

  ‘I sometimes wonder if I’m handling this situation in the right way,’ Watkin confided to Robert later on that morning as they travelled towards Manchester with a heavily loaded lorry.

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘Forcing Kathy to go out.’

  ‘Well, she’s got to face the world sometime,’ Robert commented, frowning.

  ‘I know that but forcing her makes me seem so heartless, somehow. She’s so wrapped up in her memories that half the time she doesn’t even know what time of day it is.’

  ‘What does Megan have to say about it? She’s the one who has been doing the shopping, cleaning and most of the cooking, ever since the accident.’

  ‘Megan thinks that it’s high time her mam took over again. That’s why she didn’t stock up before she went on holiday. She thought that once the cupboard was bare her mam would pull herself together and go shopping.’

  ‘Maybe she will. Perhaps today will be the turning point. If you say there’s no bread or anything else in the house she won’t be able to get herself a meal, will she?’

  ‘I hope you’re right. The trouble is, food doesn’t seem to worry her …’

  ‘When did you say Megan would be back from North Wales?’ Robert asked. He kept his eyes glued to the road ahead but Watkin was aware of the way his partner’s jaw tightened.

  ‘Sometime tomorrow … She didn’t say what time, only that she’d come back on Saturday because she wanted a day at home to get herself organised before going back to work on Monday.’

  ‘A bit tough on her if the first thing she has to do when she gets back is to go shopping for food, isn’t it?’ questioned Robert.

  ‘That’s what I said to Kathy,’ agreed Watkin. ‘She doesn’t see it like that … she thinks Megan should have stayed at home and looked after things.’ He sighed. ‘Where will it all end?’

  Robert frowned heavily. It worried him to learn that Megan was being put on by her mother. He’d always noticed that Kathy favoured Lynn over Megan, but he realised that was often the way in families. Kathy and Lynn shared a similar outlook on life, a love of clothes, but Megan was quieter, deeper, more thoughtful and preferred reading to dancing. Not that Megan was dull. Far from it, he thought, remembering with keen pleasure the arguments and discussions they’d had over everything from religion to politics. He’d gone out of his way to win her affection and it both puzzled and grieved him that he had been so unsuccessful.

  ‘I wonder if I ought to pick up some bread and stuff,’ muttered Watkin uneasily as he climbed back into the cab and took the wheel for the return journey after they’d unloaded.

  ‘If you give in now Kathy will never go out of the house or get back into the swing of things,’ warned Robert.

  ‘But it’s Saturday tomorrow …’

  ‘Well, if she hasn’t been shopping today you can do it tomorrow afternoon. Maybe that would be best all round. If you take Kathy with you, that might give her the confidence to go out on her own next week.’

  Megan was still feeling despondent over the way she and Miles had parted when she reached home. Kathy and Watkin were eating their midday meal when she walked in.

  ‘So you’re back,’ commented Kathy harshly. ‘I thought you’d be making the most of it and staying another night.’

  ‘I told you I’d be home on Saturday,’ murmured Megan as she kissed her mother on the cheek.

  ‘You also told us you were going to Beddgelert,’ snapped Kathy.

  ‘Kathy! That will do. Listen to what Megan has to say before making any judgement.’

  ‘Judgement! What are you both on about?’

  ‘Sit down, girl, and get your breath back.’

  ‘No! Let’s have it out now,’ Kathy interrupted, her eyes hard and accusing. ‘It’s no good you denying it, Megan,’ she said harshly. ‘Beryl Parsons from next door saw you … in Conway … with Miles Walker!’ Her voice broke as tears cascaded down her cheeks. ‘How could you, Megan? How could you go away with him after he caused our Lynn’s death?’

  ‘No, Mam!’ Megan knelt beside her mother’s chair, clasping her round the waist, one hand stroking her bowed head. ‘That’s not true …’

  ‘He was riding the motorbike she was on, wasn’t he?’

  ‘Well, yes, she was on the pillion, but the accident wasn’t Miles’ fault. It had been raining and the roads were slippery. He braked and skidded … you must try and understand …’

  ‘What is there to understand? It was his bike … he killed her! Nothing you or anyone else says will alter the facts.’

  ‘Mam! She was at the Stork Club and had to get back to work and Miles offered her a lift.’

  ‘How could you even speak to him after what happened?’ persisted her mother.

  ‘I love him, Mam,’ Megan told her quietly.

  ‘Love him!’ Kathy almost choked with anger. ‘He was two-timing you with your own sister! And then to go away with him!’

  ‘Is it true, Megan? Have you been away with Miles Walker?’ asked Watkin in a shocked voice.

  ‘Of course she has. Didn’t I tell you?’ shrieked Kathy. ‘Look at her face, there’s guilt written all over it.’

  ‘So you never went to Beddgelert.’

  ‘Yes, I did …’

  ‘And then sneaked off to be with Miles Walker! Fooled us into believing you were going to see your friend Jennie and instead you spent the time with that blackguard.’

  ‘I did stay with Jennie.’

  ‘For how long? One night, two nights …’

  ‘I was there until Thursday.’

  ‘And then sneaked off to meet him! You’d got it all plann
ed out! Beddgelert indeed! You certainly pulled the wool over our eyes, all right.’

  ‘You’ve got it all wrong, Mam.’

  ‘If Mrs Parsons from next door hadn’t spotted you in Conway you’d never have told us a word about it, would you?’

  Megan shrugged helplessly, biting back the hot words of protest, knowing that she could never make either of them understand.

  The dismay on her father’s face hurt far more than her mother’s accusations. She hated to see him so upset. She wished she’d told him what her plans were before she’d set out, but would he have understood or would he have tried to dissuade her? At that moment she wished she had told him and that he had stopped her and saved her from such a sense of disillusionment.

  While she had been with Miles at Tynmorfa everything had seemed so blissful. The hurried way in which he had urged her to leave, however, had soured things and turned what had been a momentous occasion into something underhand and sordid.

  It had worried her all the way home. Why was Miles still so reluctant to tell his father that they were seeing each other? Why did their engagement have to be kept a secret? Miles had let her down; he hadn’t even bought her a ring.

  She was tired of all the pretence, of hiding the truth from her parents and, above all, from Robert when he had been such a good friend to her, though, by mutual consent, they no longer mentioned Miles.

  Miles’ explanation that he wanted to be sure of being made a director before telling his father that they were going to be married didn’t ring true, she decided.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  MEGAN LISTENED IN stunned silence, a thousand questions buzzing through her head, as Miles told her that his father had suffered a heart attack.

  ‘Take charge of the office until I get there,’ he told her, and she was aware of a new edge of authority in his voice.

  ‘If people ask where he is, what shall I tell them?’

  ‘The truth, of course, Miss Williams,’ he replied sharply. ‘I’ll be in later in the morning to deal with things myself,’ he added, then rang off abruptly.