A Stranger's Kiss

afraid to speak her mind.’ She chuckled. ‘It’s the nearest he’s going to get to you. Except in age.’
    ‘I wonder what her underwear is like?’
    ‘Tara?’ Beth was looking at her a little oddly.
    ‘Sorry, thinking out loud.’
    ‘I see. Well, leave Janice to me. I think you should run along home. You look fit to drop.’
    ‘You say the kindest things.’
    Beth tilted an eyebrow at her. ‘I suppose it’s only polite to phone the man and let him know who to expect in the morning?’
    She shook her head. ‘No, don’t do that. Let him sweat.’ And almost managed a smile.
    * * *
    Saturday dawned bright and clear. The first real warm spring day. Tara barely noticed. She cleaned her flat thoroughly, making sure her hands were occupied, but it didn’t help her head or her heart. Today she would have to face Jane and reassure her that she had no competition and she was trying very hard not to think about it.
    After lunch, a sandwich that she barely touched, Tara went to change.
    A plain grey skirt, an old but favourite white blouse from Laura Ashley, its collar fanned up like a ruff, a long black knitted edge to edge jacket. The barest touch of make-up. Her hair pulled back and tied with a neat red bow at the nape. She surveyed herself in the mirror. Very ordinary. Jane would never believe she was a threat in such an outfit.
    She smiled at her reflection.
    She must remember to smile.
    On the final few steps to the front of the clinic she almost lost her nerve. She could always write... or phone... anything but this.
    A friendly porter made a point of coming over. ‘First visit? Where do you want to go?’
    ‘Maternity,’ she almost croaked.
    He pointed the way and stood and watched to make sure she followed his directions, nodding encouragement as she seemed to hesitate.
    She found Jane’s room with a little help from a nurse and tapped at the door.
    ‘Come in.’ The voice was instantly recognisable.
    She opened the door and stepped inside. There was no turning back.
    Jane Townsend looked at her curiously for a moment. ‘Are you Tara Lambert?’ she asked, with apparent surprise. Then her face widened in a smile. ‘How kind of you to come.’
    ‘I...’ Her voice stuck. She offered the flowers she had bought. ‘I thought I should.’
    Jane touched the furry yellow centres of the daisies. ‘Just like a bunch of sunshine. Thank you.’
    She was older than Tara had expected. At least thirty, with a fine strand of silver in the neatly tied back hair. And her face seemed oddly familiar. But then she remembered the photograph in the newspaper.
    ‘Come and meet the son and heir.’
    Almost numb, Tara moved around the bed. The baby was lying asleep in a small cot beside his mother, his fists bunched tightly against pink, downy cheeks.
    ‘His hair is blonde!’ The words were startled from her. She had been so afraid he would be like Adam, with a mop of dark hair and green eyes. Stupid. All babies had blue eyes. He opened them and seemed to smile at her.
    ‘Isn’t it gorgeous.’ Jane touched the soft curls. ‘It will darken later I suppose, but such fun.’
    ‘He’s beautiful.’
    ‘Pick him up if you like.’
    She lifted the tiny bundle into her arms and cradled him, touching the small fingers letting them grip her own, comparatively huge one. She breathed the warm, milky smell of him and a wave of unbearable longing swept over her.
    She glanced up to see Jane regarding her with great interest. ‘You seem to have made a good recovery,’ she said, quickly.
    ‘Oh, yes. Just as long as I don’t cough. It’s hell on the stitches.’
    Tara had thought it would be easy to hate Jane Townsend, but it wasn’t. She was so natural, so easy to be with. ‘Tell me about Bahrain. Did you enjoy yourself? How is Hanna?’
    ‘He was very charming,’ she said, tactfully.
    Jane laughed. ‘He kissed your hand and made you feel you were the most beautiful woman in the world?’
    ‘He kissed my hand a lot.’ But he couldn’t make her feel beautiful because she had known it was just an act. ‘I thought it was simply to annoy Adam.’
    ‘Did it?’ The question came so quickly that she immediately realised her mistake.
    Conscious that Jane was watching her closely she forced a smile to her lips. ‘Of course not. Why should it?’
    Jane’s eyes narrowed slightly. ‘Forgive me for being personal, Tara, but do you always dress like that?’
    Tara glanced down at the monotone of her garments and