Buttoned-Up Secretary, British Boss Page 15

  ‘What do you mean, Lydia?’ Alexander asked quietly.

  Lydia let several moments pass before she went on. ‘He’s the only one who ever knew the truth about me…about my upbringing.’ She swallowed, but now for a moment her eyes were dry. ‘My parents—your grandparents—didn’t die in a car crash as I’d always told you. They gave me up for adoption to a couple who never really wanted children after all. They liked the idea, but not the reality. And a few years later—I was about ten—they divorced. My adoptive mother had to bring me up alone. I learned all about life from her…Oh yes—how to make men notice me, to always put myself first, not to let family get in my way…To stand up for myself because no one else would do it for me.’

  Still holding her, Alexander rested his chin on the top of his mother’s head as she spoke, unable to believe what he was hearing.

  ‘I was very young when I met Angus, and when he asked me to marry him I couldn’t believe my luck,’ Lydia went on calmly, as if she was giving a recitation. ‘He was everything I was told I should try and catch—a good-looking man with money. But he was so much more than that. He was kind and generous, and he always forgave my failings and promised he would never leave me. And I couldn’t bear life without him. We…we understand each other, you see. Although he’s away such a lot, he’s always there when I need him.’

  Lydia stared into space for a moment, as if she was in another world. Then, in a monotone she said, ‘If Angus dies, I shall want to die too.’ Her eyes filled again. ‘I mean it. I couldn’t bear the thought of life without him.’

  She took a tissue from her pocket and looked up at Alexander.

  ‘And the very best thing he ever did for me was to give me my two wonderful sons—sons I’ve been proud of all my life. Sons I’ve never been worthy of,’ she added sadly.

  Later that night, as Sabrina lay down on the bed in the private room which Alexander had arranged for her to sleep in, she felt as if she was part of an unfolding television drama. It was so unreal, she thought, so unexpected. By now, she should be at home, unpacking her clothes and reliving her holiday. Instead of that, she’d not only become part of a crisis, she’d seen a different side to Alexander McDonald—a deeply caring side. His love for his sick father was touchingly transparent, and an emerging softness towards his mother was obvious.

  After he had seen Lydia safely off in the taxi, he and Sabrina had gone down to the hospital café to have something to eat. Although Sabrina had felt rather embarrassed at being party to everything Lydia had spilled out, Alexander seemed only too anxious to talk about it.

  ‘Today, I think I met my mother for the first time,’ he’d said slowly as they drank their coffee. ‘She has never spoken of her past before.’ He’d paused. ‘I have learned one or two things…It shows that you can’t possibly know what makes people who or what they are,’ he’d added.

  Now, Sabrina pulled the unfamiliar duvet around her shoulders. At least the fact that they’d come straight from the airport meant they had their clothes with them, and that she could clean her teeth and wear a nightdress in bed. Though whether she’d get a wink of sleep was another thing—especially as she would rather have stayed by Angus’s bed with Alexander and shared his anxiety. But he had been insistent that she should rest.

  ‘Goodness knows what I might need you for tomorrow,’ he’d said as he dropped a light kiss on her cheek. ‘Sleep well. I’ll wake you if there’s any change.’ He’d hesitated, pulling her towards him. ‘And thank you for coming here with me, Sabrina.’

  She’d gestured helplessly. ‘If only there was something I could do,’ she’d said.

  ‘But you’re doing it,’ he’d replied softly. ‘You’re here.’

  For the next thirty-six hours it was touch and go with Angus.

  When Lydia returned to the hospital on Monday morning, she found Sabrina sitting alone in the ward. As the older woman came in, Sabrina stood up quickly.

  ‘I—I’ve taken over for a couple of hours, Mrs McDonald,’ she explained. ‘Alexander is tired out, so I made him go and have a rest.’

  Lydia smiled, still looking wan and distressed. ‘That is very kind of you, Sabrina,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’

  Well, that was another surprise, Sabrina thought. She’d half-expected to be met with resentment that she, a comparative stranger, was here at all during this sensitive family time. Especially as she was only a secretary.

  At that moment a nurse came in and, going over to the bed, she made a little exclamation.

  ‘Ah, Mr McDonald, you’re looking a bit better,’ she said gently. ‘Look—your wife is here to see you. How are you feeling?’

  And amazingly, after a few seconds, Angus croaked, ‘I’m feeling…f-f-fine. Thank you.’

  The next few moments passed in a blur as the doctor was called urgently. As Lydia stood cradling her husband’s head, Sabrina slipped away to fetch Alexander.

  When she got to the private room, he was standing by the window, his hands in his pockets, and Sabrina went over and touched him gently.

  ‘You’re needed, Alexander,’ she said. ‘I think you should go now.’

  He turned quickly. ‘My father hasn’t…? He’s not…?’ he said almost savagely, and Sabrina smiled.

  ‘No. He’s just told everyone that he’s feeling fine.’ She paused. ‘I’m sure you’d like to hear it too.’

  After he’d gone, Sabrina began to finish packing the few things she’d taken from her case, ready to go home.

  ‘Obviously, you must stay at home until I get in touch with you, Sabrina,’ Alexander had said when she’d told him she was going. ‘I don’t know when I’ll be back at work—I’ll stay here for ever if necessary—but as soon as the situation becomes clearer I’ll ring you.’

  As she collected her few things from the bathroom and zipped up her wash bag, Sabrina paused for a moment. She had never met Angus McDonald before—not in the proper sense—but she knew she liked him. And she really, really wanted him to get better. For Alexander’s sake—and, yes, for Lydia’s too.

  One evening, ten days later, Sabrina arrived home to find Melly and Sam had also returned. Before they got their greetings underway, the doorbell rang. Immediately Sabrina got to her feet and went to answer it. Alexander stood there, holding a large parcel wrapped in brown paper.

  ‘Alexander!’ she exclaimed, not bothering to hide her pleasure in seeing him again. ‘What…? Why…? I mean, sorry—come in!’

  Alexander grinned down at her and followed her into the house. ‘Oh, well, I was just passing,’ he said. They both knew he was not ‘just passing’. ‘And thought it was a good opportunity to drop this off.’

  Sabrina didn’t know what he was talking about, but they went inside where Melly and Sam were having coffee. Sabrina said brightly, ‘You haven’t met my sister, have you, Alexander? Um, Melly, this is my…my boss, Alexander McDonald. I don’t think I ever actually mentioned his name.’

  Alexander put the heavy parcel carefully down against the wall, stood up and went over, holding out his hand.

  ‘Hello, Melly,’ he said easily. ‘I’ve heard a great deal about you.’

  Melly smiled up at the handsome face, clearly impressed at meeting the famous Alexander McDonald.

  ‘I am so glad that your father is making such a good recovery,’ she said, thinking that, if she had to listen to one more word about her sister’s employer’s troubles, she’d go mad.

  ‘Thank you. Yes, it’s an enormous relief all round,’ Alexander replied.

  Melly glanced down at Sam. ‘And this is my partner, Sam Conway,’ she said.

  The two men shook hands and Sabrina said, ‘You’ll have some coffee, won’t you, Alexander?’

  ‘Thanks—yes,’ he said.

  Sabrina passed Alexander his coffee. Glancing at Melly, she wondered if her sister was comparing him to the other famous brother she’d met once or twice. Well, there was no comparison, Sabrina thought. Not in looks, style, manner—anything at all.
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br />   Alexander stood up. ‘Now,’ he said. ‘I have something to fix upstairs.’

  Sabrina stared at him. ‘What do you mean?’ she said.

  ‘I have a small task to undertake, that’s all.’ He smiled down at her slowly. ‘You can come and help me.’

  Together, the pair went out into the hall and Sabrina helped to tear the brown paper from the parcel. When she saw it, she gasped in admiration.

  ‘Alexander! Is this…is this for us? You shouldn’t have! It’s gorgeous…It’s absolutely fantastic!’

  ‘I knew you’d like it,’ he said. ‘I asked Colette to pack it with tender, loving care.’ He lifted the ornate, heavy mirror and began going up the stairs, Sabrina following. ‘As soon as I saw it, I could imagine it hanging where the other one had been,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘My problem was in keeping it a secret from you—but you were far too busy with your own purchases, fortunately.’

  It was mid-December before Alexander asked Sabrina to return to work. Now, as she made her way along the familiar street to number thirteen, she felt glad at last to be getting back into a routine. She certainly hadn’t wasted the time at home, but being paid to be away from her desk had begun to make her feel useless.

  The time alone had got Sabrina to thinking. Seeing how happy Melly and Sam were, and the little ways the two had demonstrated their deep feelings for each other while Sam had been staying with them, Sabrina felt a familiar, small stab of envy. They were so obviously in love, she thought. They could have been made for each other.

  While Sabrina was thrilled and happy for them, deep down she recognized another less comfortable feeling: that the umbilical cord between Melly and her had been severed once and for all.

  But all this introspection was nothing compared to how she was feeling about her employer. Her employer. Her boss. Someone who did need her. Oh yes, he needed her all right…for now. He’d told her so, several times. She had fulfilled all her secretarial duties to the very best of her ability—staying late or coming in early whenever he’d asked, making him countless coffees and lunches, and one or two suppers too. And she’d gone with him to France, because that was what he’d wanted at the time. She’d allowed him to make love to her because that was also what he’d needed. Then he’d needed her to be a consoling presence in that hospital ward. So what? He was paying her handsomely for all her efforts, wasn’t he?

  Sabrina slowed her steps for a moment. Be honest, she told herself. He might need her, but she needed him too—because the hard fact was she knew she loved him deeply. She’d fought against it, not wanting to risk a passion that might end in yet more pain. But it was a lost cause. Useless. Because he didn’t love her—not in the way that her heart yearned for. And she doubted that Alexander McDonald could ever profess his love for her, or any woman. It was just not in his nature.

  Sabrina let herself into the house with her key, then made her way upstairs. It seemed a long time since she’d been here, she thought as she went into the study. So much had happened…

  There didn’t appear to be anyone else around. Maria had obviously already gone, and there was no sign of Alexander. As she went over to her desk, Sabrina suddenly spotted the large, leather-bound book lying there; immediately knowing what it was, she picked it up eagerly: it was their novel. Its weight in her hands made her realize just how much work had gone into it—not that she needed telling.

  Carefully, almost reverentially, she opened the first page of Symptoms of Betrayal, by Alexander McDonald. Sabrina’s hands almost shook as she looked down at it, a feeling of personal pride entering her consciousness. She had been there while this famous writer had fashioned a lot of this; had watched him covertly as he’d wrestled with the difficult parts; had shared his relief when that final chapter had come together…

  As she continued staring at it, Sabrina read the first couple of pages which contained the author’s imposing list of previous publications. There were the usual acknowledgements, together with the usual disclaimer about all characters being fictitious, and then…Hardly believing her eyes, she had to sit down for a moment.

  On the page immediately preceding chapter one was the dedication—just two words, dead centre, saying simply:

  For Sabrina

  That was all. Sabrina’s first sensation of shock was followed by one of incredulity and choking emotion. There had never been any discussion about a dedication, and seeing her own name there had almost taken her breath away.

  She sat back for a moment, her eyes still fixed to the page. Well, of course; that had to be his way of expressing his gratitude, she thought. A little pat on the back for her loyalty—perhaps by now he was running out of friends to include.

  Whatever his reason, Sabrina was overcome, and she had to fight back her tears. It was a privilege, and she did feel honoured.

  As she reached for a tissue from her bag, a piece of paper fell out and fluttered to the floor. It was the application form for the new position which Emma had rung her about. Sabrina had kept putting off filling it in, but maybe now was the time. Maybe her duties here had run their natural course and now, with Alexander’s novel safely under wraps, she should call it a day. Because she loved being here too much, and was beginning to forget that she was a highly qualified psychologist with another life out there, another world that did not include Alexander McDonald.

  In his sitting room two doors along from the study, Alexander sat brooding silently, staring into space. He had heard Sabrina come in but had wanted her to see the book—their book—before they came face to face this morning. He had delayed her return to work until now because he’d needed some time away from her to see whether he could face the future without her. To convince himself, one way or the other, whether she really had become as indispensable to him as he thought. But he knew the answer to that. He’d known it for a long time.

  Suddenly, he stood up, strode purposefully along the landing and thrust open the door to the study. This had to be the moment of truth, he told himself. He couldn’t bear to wait another day, another hour…

  Sabrina looked up and smiled quickly, indicating the novel in front of her.

  ‘Oh, Alexander,’ she said. ‘Doesn’t this look good? Doesn’t it look lovely? It’s great to see the finished product.’ She paused. ‘You must be very proud of it.’

  He shrugged. ‘Well, aren’t you?’ he asked bluntly. ‘I seem to remember there were two of us on the project.’

  So, she’d been right, Sabrina thought. He clearly thought he’d pay her the compliment of adding her name.

  ‘And thank you—so much—for the dedication.’ She swallowed. ‘I could hardly believe it.’

  He came over and glanced down at the application form which Sabrina had begun filling out.

  ‘What’s that? What are you doing?’ he asked frankly.

  Well, she supposed he had every right to ask; he was paying her for her time here.

  ‘Oh, this is the application for the post my ex-colleague rang me about when we were in France,’ she said casually. ‘And don’t worry; even if I’m successful—which is by no means certain—the post isn’t open until the end of March, so we’ll have plenty of time before that to concentrate on your next novel.’

  ‘Don’t!’ he said harshly. ‘Don’t do this. I don’t want you to go.’

  Sabrina’s shoulders sagged slightly. She knew that he needed her skills, and it was undeniably true that she seemed to fit in with all his requirements, tick all the necessary boxes. Of course he didn’t want her to go. What else had she expected?

  But Sabrina knew that she must think more of herself and less of him on this occasion. And as she looked up at the impossibly handsome face, at those eyes which had always seemed able to read her innermost thoughts, she knew she must put a stop to it now. She could no longer bear to be close to him—and not be loved by him.

  ‘I’m sorry, Alexander,’ she began. ‘But I feel it’s right that we should part company soon.’

  ‘Why?
’ he demanded roughly. ‘Why is it right? I thought we were good together, you and I, Sabrina. We could go on being good together, couldn’t we?’

  ‘What exactly do you mean by that?’ she asked.

  ‘Well, what I mean is, I want us to be together—properly. To commit to each other.’ He shook his head irritably. ‘I mean, I want you to marry me, of course! What’s the problem?’

  For a second, Sabrina felt almost amused at the question; now was the moment. ‘You’re the problem, Alexander,’ she said, surprised at her own coolness of tone.

  ‘Why? Explain!’ he demanded.

  Looking up at him, her bewitching eyes moist and full of emotion, Sabrina said, ‘I agree that we are good together.’ Would either of them ever forget their one passionate night together? ‘But I don’t think you understand me, Alexander. I am more than aware of your needs—your wants—but I don’t believe that you’re aware of mine. You simply have no idea,’ she added quietly.

  ‘But, if you leave me, I’ll never find out what your needs are, what you’re talking about!’ He thrust his hand through his hair. ‘If it’s about wanting to return to your own profession one day, well, of course I fully understand. I’d never stand in your way. You could set up your own consulting room here, if you wanted—there’s plenty of space. And you could still go on working for me. We’d sort it between us somehow. But don’t leave me, Sabrina. You’ll have to give me time…That’s all I’m asking for—time…’

  ‘Time is not what you need,’ Sabrina said slowly. ‘What you lack, Alexander, is the ability to utter the one thing I—or any woman—would expect to hear you say. Well, three things, actually.’

  ‘Which is? Which are?’

  After a long moment, staring straight in front of her, Sabrina said slowly, ‘I want you to tell me that we should be together, that we should commit to each other, simply because you love me—and for no other reason. I want you to force yourself to say it—to say, “I love you”.’ She swallowed, quietly amazed at her own temerity. She was giving her boss instructions! How had she found the courage to do that? But she was forcing him to give her a reply now. It would be his only chance; she knew that. And after a moment she repeated what she’d said. ‘I want you to tell me that you love me, Alexander. Is that such a hard thing for you to do?’