The Beautiful Widow - By Helen Brooks Page 0,61
when he was alive and even more when he died and you found out the truth. The male sex suddenly became unreliable and treacherous and devious, I can understand that. Perhaps I shouldn’t have asked if you trusted Steel. Perhaps I should have asked if you trust yourself.’
There was suddenly a huge thud upstairs that rocked the ceiling, followed by howls loud enough to wake the baby in her crib by the side of the kitchen table. As Poppy ran upstairs to see what was what Toni picked up the infant and reassured little Rose, who was looking worried. When Poppy came back all four children were in tow, Nathan with an egg-sized lump on his forehead and sniffling, looking very sorry for himself.
‘They were playing Superman,’ Poppy said ruefully, ‘and Nathan tried to “fly” off the top bunk. We’re all going to have a drink and a biscuit now, aren’t we?’ she added to the four subdued children. ‘And then we’re going to do some nice drawing and colouring at the kitchen table where Mummy and Aunty Toni can keep an eye on you.’
It was the end of further meaningful conversation.
That night as she lay in bed Toni thought about Poppy’s last words; they had been very profound, especially considering it had been Poppy speaking. At three in the morning she still hadn’t gone to sleep, and at five she gave up all hope of dropping off and got up and made herself a hot drink.
It was bitterly cold outside, the frosted windowpane in the kitchen telling its own story. Snow was forecast in the next few days and everyone was predicting a white Christmas. The kitchen was freezing, the central heating hadn’t come on yet, but the chill inside Toni was worse.
She stood at the back door, her hands wrapped round the hot coffee cup as she surveyed Jack Frost’s handiwork. Poppy was right. She didn’t trust herself any more: her judgement, her self-worth, her discernment—not in matters of the heart anyway. Maybe if she had met Steel five years from now, when she’d had time to sort herself out and get back on an even keel again, it would have been different. But she hadn’t. And it wasn’t different. She was too frightened of making another huge mistake, and this time she knew she would never recover if it went wrong. So it was better to walk away now. It might be the wrong decision, she’d never know, but, even if it was, it was preferable to staying with him and everything coming unstuck at some time in the future if her worst fears came true. Cowardly it might be, but that was what self-survival came down to sometimes.
By the time the girls came downstairs she was washed and dressed and breakfast was on the table. She was in control again, she told herself firmly. Everything would pan out. Soon she would stop crying when she was in bed at night and feel like eating again. The new project on Steel’s house was already underway and she would be spending plenty of time on site; so she wouldn’t see much of him, she could make sure of that. He, himself, had made that possible when he’d insisted on giving her carte blanche regarding everything from the alterations and colour schemes to the furniture and fittings.
And once the house was finished—a hard knot formed in her stomach—she would leave; and she had already given Steel a letter of resignation stating this, to which he had agreed with a curt nod of his head as he had read it. She had made some inroad into paying off Richard’s debts; the rest would have to happen more slowly when she found another job. All this wasn’t the end of the world.
It just felt like it.
Toni worked hard over the next few weeks. She fell into bed each night too exhausted to think, but once she was in dream land her subconscious played all sorts of tricks on her and she couldn’t keep Steel at bay. Each morning she awoke feeling more tired than when she had gone to bed, but she forced herself to get up, shower and start the day.
Christmas came and went and the girls were ecstatic when they had a sprinkling of snow on Christmas Eve. Steel gave each employee a Christmas bonus, and when she opened her envelope she could scarcely believe her eyes when she saw the noughts after the ten. ‘Ten thousand pounds?’ She