Chapter 22

Victor was shocked when he opened the door to his flat at the top of the block. The place was totally trashed. The police must have wrought a little revenge as they searched. Furniture was broken, carpets ripped up, bedding torn and scattered around. He turned and left.

He noticed that there was no one in the office, and assumed Susan was away for the holiday period. He greeted the woman who was the temporary incumbent, who returned the greeting with a pleasant smile. Victor was pleased that the woman did not know who he was. He liked being anonymous, and belatedly felt a little irked that George had told Susan who he was.

Susan. He had to admit that he had thought of her a lot during his stay in Scotland. She had not called or tried to contact him, and that annoyed him. For heaven’s sake, he was totally exonerated, why couldn’t she see that? He could understand her taking precautions to protect her children, but now?

She had been with him for months. They knew each other so well. In fact he had acted like a father for the children and they loved him with a confidence which she should have seen and understood.

Better to keep clear of her. He wondered about moving out of the flat. He could easily find somewhere else. In any case the flat was uninhabitable at the moment.

Over the next few hours he went and saw his broker, did a tour of the flats and found everything in good order, phoned Gordon and asked him to seek compensation from the police, met George and got him to sort the flat out. George told him Susan had returned the previous day. Finally he did some business at the bank.

Though he had brought his baggage to the flat, he had not taken it from the car, and so did not return but went back to the house. He made a meal for himself and then sat and watched some vacuous programme on TV, pouring himself a profligately large malt whisky before retiring early to bed. Somehow he felt more lonely than he had for years before, but thanks to too much whisky he slept soundly, and awoke with a justifiably crashing headache.

The phone rang far too loudly for his liking, but he answered it. George updated him on the flat, and Victor, somewhat sharply, told him he didn’t need a blow by blow commentary.

“Too much whisky last night?” his perceptive manager asked.

“You know too much,” snarled Victor good-naturedly as he hung up, and no sooner had he done so, than the gate buzzer sounded.

Susan had taken Wednesday to recover and organise her flat, and to do the shopping and the other chores that need attention after an absence, but on Thursday morning she made her mind up to make her peace with Victor. She loaded the children into the car and travelled to his house. As before, she felt less and less sure of herself as the journey progressed.

She pressed the button on the gate and waited. It was quite a wait. She was beginning to wonder if he was at home, when the intercom buzzed. There was no voice, only the opening of the big gates to allow her car access. She was shaking as she unfastened the children and with them made her way to the front doors, which as before opened at her approach.

The children had sensed Susan’s fear and were tentative as the trio entered the house, hiding behind Susan’s skirt. Until, that is, they saw who it was standing in the hallway to greet them. Gail gave a squeal of delight and with a shout of “Uncle Victor!” ran to him with a happy laugh.

Victor had seen it was Susan’s car at the gate, and after setting the gates to open, went to the hallway to await her arrival. He felt unaccountably nervous as he waited, wondering what her attitude would be. Then he heard children’s voices. She had brought them with her. Of course, it was still the Christmas holidays for the nursery, and she would have to bring them along.

Susan came through the door, with two small figures trying to hide behind her, Carl toddling uncertainly. He saw Gail peep out from behind Susan, and then watched as her face was suffused with happiness, as she ran from behind her mother and shouting his name, made for him in a headlong rush.

He knelt and she fell into his arms, hugging him as if her life depended on it. He felt his tears rising as the little girl hugged him, and then came a second pair of hands – Carl had followed his sister and was wanting a share in the reunion. He opened his arms and took them both to him.

Then he looked up. Susan was looking at him, and the look was of love, and something else. There were tears in her eyes as well. Eventually he was able to stand and face her. They stood opposite one another, he with a child holding on to each hand as if they were afraid he would disappear, and she with her hands by her sides, and a very uncomfortable expression on her face.

It seemed like an age before he broke the mood. It wasn’t.

“Come into the living room,” he said and led them across the hall. He showed the children a toy box, and took them to it, kneeling to open it for them. He had bought the toys well in advance of Christmas, and they had gone un-given. He stood and turned to Susan, who who was standing by one of the armchairs. She was waiting for an invitation to sit.

“Susan,” he said, “sit down, for goodness’ sake! You don’t have to wait for an invitation!”

She smiled shyly and sat. She sat on the edge, stiffly erect. Victor sat on the sofa, next to her chair. In the silence that followed broken only by the children’s voices as they discovered each new toy and then played with them, Victor took the time to study the young mother before him.

She was upset, she was worried, and she was still so very pretty! Victor realised that meeting the children and their response to him had temporally eclipsed his feelings of anger and resentment at her lack of trust in him.

Now, seeing the children, he could understand her need to protect them at all costs, but after his always careful behaviour with the them, she should easily have rejected the accusations. His ruminations were abruptly halted.

“Victor,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion, “I’ve come to ask you to forgive me for not believing in you.”

She stopped and waited. Victor said nothing. There was no smile, his facial response was neutral. In truth he was torn. He was relieved and delighted at the response of the children, but now the anger at her had returned, remembering all he had done for her and what he had suffered.

“I’m sorry,” she began again. “You never gave me any reason to mistrust you, and yet I accepted everything I was told and I hated you for a while. You’ve no idea how guilty I felt when I realised Seth was behind it and was setting you up. You have every right to cut me off, but I really want to be your friend, and you can see how the children love you. They would miss you so much. They did miss you.”

She looked at him hopefully.

“Is that why you brought them?” he asked. “To soften me up – a sort of emotional blackmail?”

She recoiled as if slapped. Then a flash of anger. “It is still the holidays. I had no one to leave them with. Seth and his girlfriend aren’t around any more – as they were when I came to warn you of what Seth said. I would have apologised then, but you wouldn’t see me. So no, it isn’t blackmail.”

Victor immediately regretted his comment. “I apologise. You are quite right. You were never devious.”

He understood more clearly how much she loved her children and how she would take no chances with their safety. She had also now reminded him that she did come to warn him about Seth. Why had he not remembered that?

“I should have trusted you,” she was saying. “When I learned what Seth did, it came home to me how careful you always were with the children. I felt, and I feel so embarrassed at my treatment of you. All I can say is that I’m so very sorry, and I want so much to have your friendship again.”

It was a plea from the heart, and he recognised it as such. She had been duped by Seth and was really another victim in this. All his anger and resentment evaporated.

“Susan,” he said gently, “You reacted as any good protective mother would. I resented your lack to trust in me, but you were right to act as you did on the limited knowledge you had. And you’re right, you did come to warn me about Seth, not knowing I had friends to take care of me. In my resentment I would not see you, which was unworthy of me. So I need to ask your forgiveness also.”

Her face at first looked puzzled, but as he spoke, a great loving smile spread over her face, and when he finished she left her chair and came to him, bending over him and hugging him to her.

“Oh, Victor,” she gasped, “I’m so relieved. I thought I’d lost you.”

He pulled her onto his lap, and she turned her face to him and kissed him. It was a gentle kiss, full of love, and he returned it as such. She smiled lovingly at him, her arm round his neck.

Then she sat up on his knee, and looked stern.

“You deceived me!” she chided him. “You didn’t tell me!”

“Tell you what?” he asked, knowing exactly ‘what’.

“You saved me from those thugs. You got me the job. You got me promoted. You manipulated my life! You didn’t tell me you were the owner of all the flats. Why?”

Victor caressed her back, but she sat stiffly upright. He said nothing.

“I feel insulted and used. Did you do it to get with me? Is that why you were so good to the children. Why?”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I liked you from the outset. I wanted our relationship to be one between equals. I wanted you to be free to be angry with me, to use me as a friend. I don’t think we could have grown together at all, if you’d felt I was your employer. That’s why I got George to be your ostensible employer.

“Think about it. Could you have been my equal friend if you’d known? And in any case, you made a success of your job without any prompting from me. It was you and no one else who made a success of it. Your talent and hard work.”

She thought, then “I still feel cheated; that I got the job because you fancied me.”

“Are you saying you no longer want me as your friend?”

“No!” she cried, so urgently that Gail stopped playing to see if her mother was hurt.

The little girl saw her mother sitting on Uncle Victor’s lap and smiled. She went back to her toys.

“I just feel indebted to you.”

“Don’t!” Victor retorted. “The success of the flats is down to your talent and your hard work. You are a marvel, looking after two young children and running the flats as well.”

She smiled self-consciously at his fulsome praise, and hugged him afresh, then slid onto the sofa to sit cuddled by his side. They sat happily together watching the children absorbed in their play. Each of them felt at peace with the other once more.

At length Victor spoke. “It won’t affect us, will it – you knowing who I really am?”

She thought for a moment. “No,” she said. “I think we’ve gone beyond that. After what we’ve been through, it doesn’t matter any more.”

Then it was time for her to go.

“Come for dinner tonight?” she asked uncertainly.

“Thank you,” said Victor with a broad smile. “I’ll bring a bottle I’ve been saving for you.”

The meal was as usual delicious and she appreciated the wine he brought. He played with the children for an hour, and Susan joined in when she had loaded the dishwasher. They put the children to bed together and he read Gail a story. The little girl seemed very contented and settled to sleep with a smile.

Susan put on some quiet music and they relaxed with coffee. She leant against him and rested her head on his shoulder. It felt good to her, she felt relaxed and at home with him.

It felt good to him as well; he felt loving and protective towards her. Gradually she felt a rising of desire for this patient gentle and older man, so that eventually, when he made a move to leave, she pulled him back, and kissed him. He kissed her back.

“Stay the night with me,” she said so quietly he hardly heard her.

What did she mean? He knew she wanted him in her bed, that was obvious. In any case there was only one bed, and he knew she wasn’t talking about him sleeping on the settee which was not the sort conducive to a good night’s sleep. No, was this an invitation to a further growth in their relationship, or simply a transitory piece of comfort sharing?