Second Best Husband Part 1

Penny Jordan.

Second Best Husband.

CHAPTER ONE.

" So you've actually done it, then? You've handed in your notice andleft?"

" Yes," Sara agreed in a low voice, flinching a little as though hearingthe words physically pained her.

Her friend and neighbour grimaced sympathetically. She was ten yearsolder than Sara and had known her ever since Sara had bought the housenext to their own four years before, and personally she felt like givinga very, very loud cheer. Ian Saunders, Sara's boss, might be six feetodd of blond good-looking manhood, all outward charm and attractiveness,but inwardly he was as cold and callous as it was possible for a man tobe. That was her considered opinion, but in the past, no matter how manytimes she had voiced it, Sara had refused to listen to her, to hear a**skip**word against the man she worked for and loved.

" Well, you know what I think," she told Sara now.

" For what it's worth, I consider that leaving is the best thing youcould have done."

Sara's mouth twisted sadly. She was a tall, slender woman oftwenty-nine, with aquiet, calm manner that masked a keenly efficientbrain. Her looks mirrored her personality. Her face was delicately ovalin shape, her features elegant and well- proportioned, only her mouth,with its unexpected fullness, hinting that her outward control mightmask deep and fiery pa.s.sions.

" It wasn't exactly acalm and reasoned decision made of my own freewill."

The pain in her voice made Margaret, her neighbour, turn her head awayfrom her in angry sympathy.

How could Ian Saunders have treated Sara so badly after all she had donefor him, working for him like a slave, helping him to build up hisbusiness into the success it was today, and all the time loving him,hoping. Although Sara had always been openly honest in her own knowledgethat Ian didn't return her love, privately Margaret suspected he musthave surely guessed how she felt, and, having guessed, out of compa.s.sionand concern ought to have suggested years ago that it might be wiser forSara to find a job elsewhere. Instead of which he had allowed anintimacy to develop between them, a closeness, even if that relations.h.i.+p had been completely nons.e.xual, which had held out just enough unspokenpromise, just enough allure, to make poor Sara go on hoping that maybeone day a miracle would occur and that he would turn to her. want her.need her. not as his faithful PA but as a woman, his woman.

Instead of which he had calmly walked into his office a week ago andannounced that he was getting engaged and that he would soon be married.

Sara had been devastated, but when she, Margaret, had urged her then tohand in her notice and make a new life for herself she had selflesslyrefused, shaking her head, pointing out that if she left it would damagethe business which Ian had worked so hard to build up.

" You were right," Sara was saying unhappily now.

" I should have had the sense to hand in my notice when Ian told me thathe and Anna were getting married. But, like the blind fool that I was, Ihad no idea that Anna wanted my job as well as..." She broke off,swallowing painfully.

It wasn't like her to unburden herself like this, but what had happenedyesterday had upset and distressed her so much. She had gone to work asusual. Ian had been away seeing one of their clients, and although shehad felt wary and uncomfortable at first when Anna walked into theoffice, she had had no idea of the real purpose of the other woman'svisit until Anna had launched into the speech which had ultimately ledto Sara's acknowledging that for her own sake she had to make the breakfrom Ian and forge a completely new life for herself well away from him.

" What exactly did she say to you?" Margaret pressed gently, sensingSara's need to unburden herself.

They were sitting in Sara's neat, spotless kitchen. Margaret had calledround to see her, alerted to the fact that something must be wrong bythe fact that Sara had arrived home from work halfway through theafternoon and, after parking her car haphazardly in front of the house,had practically run inside.

Margaret had followed her, anxious to discover what was wrong and ifthere was anything she could do to help.

Sara shrugged, bending her head over the mug of coffee she was nursing.

Her hair was straight and silky, a soft, pretty fair colour which shehad expertly highlighted and styled into an elegant shoulder-length bob,which added to her air of competence and efficiency.

Margaret, who had seen her when she was at home, doing her housework,her hair tied up in a pony-tail, her face free of make-up, had beensurprised to discover how very young and vulnerable it had made herlook, how very much more approachable.

" More s.e.xy," Ben, her husband, had corrected her with a grin. Margarethad frowned him down, even while she acknowledged that it was true. Saramight know how to present herself to make herself look efficient, butwhen it came to presenting herself in a way that made men. She gave asmall sigh; as a modern woman it went against the grain to suggest toanother member of her s.e.x that she ought deliberately to focus on thosefacets of her looks and personality which made her look more vulnerableand less efficient, and yet she knew how much Sara, for all her efficiency, longed for children, a family. When she spoke of her eldersister, and her two children and another on the way, her face softenedand her eyes turned from blue to violet. As Sara stared into the browndepths of her coffee, she gave a tiny shudder.

What had Anna said? Margaret had asked her. Even now she could hardlyendure to recall exactly what Anna Thomas had said to her when she hadwalked in tolan office, red lips pouting, her white-blonde hair a ma.s.sof untidy tousled curls, her skirt surely too short and tight. And yetobviously Ion found her attractive. Far more so than. Sara swallowed,forcing herself to block out her emotions and to concentrate instead onanswering Margaret's question.

" Well, basically, she simply pointed out to me that both she and Ianwere aware of my... my feelings for him, that in fact they'd bothderived quite a lot of amus.e.m.e.nt from the fact that I obviously thoughtI'd managed to keep them hidden. As she pointed out, there's nothingquite as pathetic as a secretary in love with her boss, especially whenthere's absolutely no chance of his returning her feelings."

She paused as Margaret made a small sound of shocked anger, and shookher head.

" Well, it's true enough, even though I had rather flattered myself thatIan and I were more partners than boss and secretary."

" Partners!" Margaret interrupted explosively, unable to control herselfany longer.

" Why, you virtually ran that business for him!

Without you."

Sara smiled sadly at her.

" I wish it was true, but in all honesty it was lan's salesmans.h.i.+p, hisflair that made the business a success. I merely worked in thebackground.

Anyway, to continue, as Anna pointed out to me, it would hardly be in mybest interests to stay on with Ian now that they were getting married;she could easily replace me in the office, and she and Ian had decidedthat it would be better all round if I looked for another job. She didsay that I could stay until the end of the month if I wished."

Sara paused, the wry self-contempt in her voice making Margaret wincefor her.

" What could I do? Naturally I told her I'd be leaving immediately.

That was yesterday. I only went in today to clear my desk, to tidy up afew odds and ends."

She bit her lip. She was trying hard not to break down. It had been suchan extraordinary interview, so unexpected, so hurtful, when she hadbelieved that she had already suffered all the hurt she could possiblyendure.

She had known that Ian was seeing Anna, of course, just as she had knownabout all the other women he had datedin the ten years during which she had worked for him. She had been devastated when he'd told her that he was marrying Anna, but she'd thought she had managed to conceal herfeelings from him, just as she had believed that he had never once, inall the years she had worked for him, guessed about the hopes shecherished, the love she felt for him.

She had honestly believed that Margaret was the only person who knew howshe felt, and only because, the year after Sara had moved in next doorto her, Margaret had come round unexpectedly one evening and found herin tears because Ian had cancelled the evening out he had arranged forthe two of them, as their" Christmas party' and a thank-you to her forall her hard work during the year, so that he could go instead to aparty with his latest girlfriend.

Not even her parents or her sister knew. or at least she a.s.sumed theydidn't, and she wondered miserably now if even they had guessed, and hadkept silent out of pity and compa.s.sion for her.

She was fully deserving of the contempt Anna had poured on her, shereflected bitterly now. She was, after all, that most ridiculous ofstereotyped creatures, the dull, plain woman, desperatelyin love withher charming, handsome boss. But at least now she had broken out of thatmould by handing in her notice.

" Well, if you want my advice, you're well out of it," Margaret told herroundly, adding equally forthrightly," All right, I know you hate anyonecriticising Ian, but for once I'm going to say what I think, and that isthat he's used you, used your talents, your skills, and now--' " And nowthat he's fallen in love with Anna there isn't any room in his life forme any more," Sarainterrupted her quietly.

" And to think that all this time I honestly believed I'd successfullyhidden how I felt. At first, when I got that job with him... well, I wasonly nineteen, my head stuffed with dreams." She was talking more toherself than to her friend.

" I'd come to London from Shrops.h.i.+re because I wanted to improve myskills, my chances of getting a top-cla.s.s job. My parents were concernedabout my leaving home, but they didn't try to stop me. At first I wasthoroughly miserable...thoroughly homesick. I was sharing a place withthree other girls, working as a temp during the day, and going tocollege at night to improve my computer and language skills, and then Imet Ian. He was taking the same computer course. He was twenty-fivethen, and he had just broken away and set up his own business. He was asalesman really, he told me, and what he really needed desperately wa.s.someone to run the office for him.

Eventually he offered me the job, and I jumped at it.

He was alwaysa generous boss financially. and then, when Gran died, Iused the money I inherited from her to buy this place. I wasn't homesickanymore I'd made friends, made a life here for myself, and, if Icouldn't bear to admit it to anyone else, I had already admitted tomyself that it was my love for Ian as much as the challenge of my jobthat kept me working for him.

Like a fool, I never gave up hoping."

And he allowed you to have that hope, Margaret thought shrewdly, butdidn't say so. She felt that Sara had endured more than enough already without having any more burdens to carry.

" So what will you do now?" she asked gently.

" Go home," Sara told her, smiling wryly when she saw Margaret's.e.xpression.

" Yes, silly, isn't it? I'm a grown woman of twenty-nine, who's lived inLondon for ten years, and yet for some reason I still think ofShrops.h.i.+re as home. I've got quite a bit saved... I can let this placeif necessary... I can afford to take a few months off, give myselftime..." She shook her head uncomfortably, aware that one of the reasonsshe was so intent on leaving London was because she was afraid--afraidthat, once her initial shock and the anger that went with it had gone,she would become vulnerably weak. that she would find excuses forgetting in touch with lan--small matters outstanding at the office.small facts which only she knew--and she didn't want to allow herself todegenerate into that kind of helpless self-destructiveness. Things werebad enough as it was, without her making them worse. without herknowingly allowing herself to hang on to the coat-tails of lan's life,pathetic and unwanted, an object of derision and contempt.

She closed her eyes as her vision became blurred by tears, obliteratingthe mental image she had just had of Ian and Anna together, laughingabout her, lan's handsome blond head flung back, his blue eyes laughing,his expression one of callous contempt. She s.h.i.+vered suddenly,acknowledging how odd it was that she was able to conjure up that imageso easily; and yet, had anyone ever suggested to her that Ian could becallous, could be cruel, could be deliberately malicious and unkind, shewould have refuted their criticisms immediately. Except. over the yearsthere had been occasions, moments, when even her devotion had wavered,flinching a little as he made a decision, a comment, a p.r.o.nouncementwhich she had soft-heartedly felt to be less warm and generous than itshould have been.

She had known always that he was egotistical, but she had allowedherself to believe it was the egotism of a spoiled little boy who didn'tknow any better, who would never deliberately inflict cruelty on others.

Had she been wrong? Had she all this time refused to allow herself tosee the truth? She s.h.i.+vered again, causing Margaret to watch her with some concern.

Despite Sara's outward air of competence and self-containment, herneighbour had always privately thought that these only narrowly maskedan inner vulnerability and fragility, a soft femininity which madeMargaret despise Ian Saunders even more for his lack of concern andcompa.s.sion for her friend.

" Yes, I think you should go home," she said firmly now.

" Even though I know I'm going to miss you desperately, especially whenI'm looking for someone to look after those two awful brats of mine."

Sara laughed shakily.

" You know you adore them," she countered.

" Mmm.-but I try not to let them guess it. It's hard work at times beingthe only woman in a household of three males." She paused and then said quietly, " I know this probably isn't the time to raise this particular subject,but I'm going to say something to you that I've wanted to say for a longtime.

I'm older than you, Sara, and I've seen a lot more of life. I know howyou feel about Ian Saunders, or at least how you think you feel, but inall honesty you've never allowed yourself to discover whether you couldallow yourself to love or care for any other man, have you?" she askedgently.

" Allow myself--' Sara began, but Margaret refused to let her speak.

" Falling in love is easy, loving someone is a lot harder; and going onloving them, through the nitty-gritty of mundane everyday life, is evenharder, and even more worthwhile.

" I know from the things you've told me, from watching you with my owntwo, that you want children. You know what you should do now, don't you?

You should put Ian Saunders right out of your mind and look round for anice man to marry and have those children with."

Sara couldn't help it. She flushed defensively.

" Ican't switch off my feelings just like that, marry a man I don'tlove, no matter how much I might want a family."

Of course Margaret was right. Of course she wanted children. Sometimes,in fact, that wanting was so sharp, so acutely painful that it made herache inside, made her wake up at night. but what Margaret was tellingher to do was impossible.

" I wasn't in love with Ben when I married him," Margaret told hersoftly, astounding Sara. She had never met anyone apart from her ownparents who were as devoted and as obviously content and happy togetheras their neighbours, and she had always a.s.sumed that they had beendeeply in love when they married.

" And, what's more, he wasn't in love with me. In fact, we were both onthe rebound from other relations.h.i.+ps. We'd known each other some rime ina casual, friendly sort of way. One evening we got talking... wediscovered how many interests we had in common, including a desire tosettle down and raise a family, and that those needs had not been sharedby our previous partners, the ones with whom we were so much in love. Sowe talked about it, started going out together, to see if it... if wecould work, and then, when we found that we were getting on as welltogether as we had hoped, we got married. Not because we were in love,but because we both genuinely and honestly thought we could make ourrelations.h.i.+p work. I've never for one minute regretted that decision,and I don't think Ben has either and do you know something else?" Shegave Sara a s.h.i.+ning, almost defensive smile.

" I don't know quite how it has happened, but somehow there's been asmall miracle for both of us, and now we love one another very muchindeed."

" I envy you, Margaret, but I don't think..."

" Listento me. You and I are very much alike in many ways. Stop wastingyour life on a man who you can't have and who would hurt you badly ifyou could. Don't spend the rest of your life weeping tears of regret.

Decide what it is you really want. Use this time with your parents athome to think about the things which are really important to you. Allright, so you may decide that I'm wrong, that a husband, a home, afamily aren't the things you want enough to put aside your dreams offalling in love, of being in love for. But on the other hand you mightfind you make some surprising discoveries about yourself and about yourtrue needs."

As Sara turned off the motorway and took the familiar route homewards,she found herself turning over in her mind what Margaret had said toher. A home. children. Yes, these were things she had always wanted.

Despite her decision to move to London, to carve a life for herself as acareer woman in the big city, at heart she had remained the small-towngirl she had been born. She had enjoyed her years in London, but in herheart of hearts she had never believed they would be anything other thana busy interlude between her childhood and her eventual role as a wifeand mother.

Every time she saw her parents, every time she saw her sister, she wasreminded of her most basic needs and how her life was stifling them.

How it was stifling her. But she hadn't been able to bring herself tobreak away from Ian. She had refused to make herself face up to thetruth: that there never was going to come a day when he would turn toher, look at her. take her in his arms. She was twenty-nine years old.

Not old by any means, but no longer young enough to deceive herself withsuch silly daydreams. She thought of the men who had asked her out overthe years, kind, pleasant men, but just men when compared with Ian, withher love, her adoration her compulsive wors.h.i.+p of him. Men whom she hadrefused, ignored, forgotten.

Men with whom, according to Margaret, she could easily have been happyand fulfilled. men with whom she could have had children. Children who would have given her so much joy--children who would have made herforget Ian?

Impossible, surely. or was it simply that she did not want to allowherself to forget him; that she was so conscious of the fact that shehad wasted so much of her life, given up so much, to maintain herdevotion to him, that her pride, her stubbornness, would not allow herto admit that she had made a mistake, had behaved in a stupid blinkeredfas.h.i.+on? But now that she was being forced into separating her life fromhis. now that she. She moved restlessly in her seat. Her back wasbeginning to ache from the long drive.

She was glad that it was almost summer and the evenings light enough toallow her to complete her journey before it grew dark.

Her expression softened into one of warm affection as she thought abouther parents. Her father was retired now. He and her mother sdll lived inthe house where she and her sister had grown up, though. Two milesoutside the village, it stood alone, halfway down a lane which ledeventually to the Jacobean manor house whose home farm it had once been.

The manor house had been empty for several years, the old man who hadowned it having died and there being no direct heir, nor apparently anyone interested in purchasing such a rambling and derelict property sofar off the beaten track. But when she had last been home at Christmas lan had booked a skiing holiday in Colorado for Christmas and the NewYear, and so there had been nothing to tempt her to stay in London, evenif she could have brought herself to disappoint her parents and breakwith family tradition by doing so her mother had told her excitedly thatthe house had at last been sold. The man who had bought it was some sortof tree expert with the Forestry Commission who had now decided tobranch out into a business of his own, growing and selling not only rarespecimen trees, but also many native broad-leaved trees, for whichapparently there was a growing market both at home and abroad in theseenvironmentally aware days.

Her parents had only met their new neighbour briefly, but Sara hadgained the impression that her mother had rather taken him to her heart.

" All on his own living in that great draughty place," was what she hadsaid at Christmas, adding that she had invited him to join them forChristmas Day, but that he had apparently already made arrangements tospend the holiday with friendsin the north-east of the country.

" He's not married, and has no family to speak of. Both his parents aredead, and his brother lives in Australia."

How like her mother to wheedle so much information out of a stranger sovery quickly, Sara reflected fondly. Not out of nosiness; her motherwasn't like that. She was one of those people who was naturallyconcerned for and caring about her fellow man.

What would she have made of Ian had Sara ever taken him home? It came to her with a small unpleasant jolt of surprise that she knew without evenhaving to consider the matter that her parents would not have taken toIan; that he in turn would have treated them with that slightlydisdainful contempt she had seen him use to such effect with anyone heconsidered neither important enough nor interesting enough to merit hisattention.

She bit her lip, worrying at it without realising what she was doing.

But Ian wasn't really like that. He was fun, clever, quick-witted. not.not shallow, vain and self-important. Or was he? Had she in her love forhim been guilty of wearing rose-coloured gla.s.ses, of seeing in him thequalities she wanted to see and ignoring those which reflected less wellon him, which actually existed?

If he was really the man she had wanted to believe he was, had allowedherself to believe he was, would he have been attracted to a woman likeAnna, outwardly attractive in an obvious and rather overdone sort ofway, but inwardly.

Sara bit her Up again. She had no right to criticise Anna just becauseshe.

No doubt Ian saw a side of her that wasn't discernible to her, anotherwoman. a woman moreover who loved him. Jealousy wasn't an attractiveemotion, and she was hardly an impartial critic, she reminded herselfsternly. And, anyway, what did it matter what she thought of Anna? Ianloved her. He had told her so himself.

Her body tensed as she remembered that awful day. A Monday morning.

Ian had been away for the weekend to stay with friends'. To stay withAnna, she had realised later. He had arrived halfway through the morningglowing with enthusiasm and excitement.