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Authors: [The Crightons 09] Coming Home
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one.'
'No. Except for the fact that it really wasn't big enough for all of us,' Caspar had pointed out quietly, adding, 'What is it you're really trying to say, Livvy? I know that you're the major bread-winner of the family at the moment and that the bulk of the money for the car came from you, but if you're trying to suggest that I put pressure on you to buy a new car as some kind of macho ego trip, then—'
'No, of course I'm not,' Olivia had hastily denied, but as so often seemed to be happening these days, within seconds they were both stiff with hostility as they each took up a defensive stance.
It was impossible for her to explain just what it was that was causing her so much anxiety when all Caspar seemed to be concerned about were his own feelings and needs.
They had gone to bed that night in a mutually antagonistic silence, lying with their backs to one another, and, as had become an increasingly fre-quent event in recent months, neither of them had reached out to the other to make things up before they had fallen asleep. But why should she be the one to give in all the time, to make amends?
Surely if Caspar really loved her, he would see...understand...know...if he really cared...//
he really cared....
Olivia couldn't remember the last time Caspar had looked at her as though he loved her, touched her as though he loved her. They hadn't even had sex in weeks, never mind made love. Not that she wanted to have sex; she was so exhausted by the time she went to bed that it was the last thing on her mind. It seemed to be the last thing on Caspar's, as well—at least with her!
The previous weekend, just as she was on her way out of the house, she realised that she had forgotten her jacket. Hurrying back upstairs for it, she had rushed into the bedroom to find Caspar on the telephone, his voice soft with a laughter he had stilled the moment he saw her. He had quickly ended the call and hadn't offered her any explanation of whom he had been talking to. She, of course, had been too proud to ask him.
Last night's row was the worst they had had so far. She had come home from work after a particularly gruelling client meeting to be met with a furious accusation from Caspar of being a neglectful mother because she had forgotten to pick Amelia up from her after-school dancing class.
'But I rang the school and explained that I was going to be late and I left a message with Maddy asking if she could collect her for me,' Olivia had defended herself.
'You left a message ?' Caspar had cut across her explanations sharply. 'My God, Livvy, what's happening to you? Being a mother isn't something you can simply delegate to someone else.
Do you realise that Amelia had to ask the teacher to ring me because no one turned up to collect her? You do understand that anything could have happened to her if she hadn't had the sense to speak to her teacher...if she had for instance tried to walk home on her own.'
'I did my best,' Olivia had argued defensively.
Through the sick storm of guilt and fear for her daughter that was flooding her, she recognised the truth of what Caspar was saying.
'Did you? Well, you certainly may have done your best for yourself, but you didn't do your best for Amelia,' Caspar told her savagely.
His accusation that she had neglected her daughter's needs in favour of her own had hurt her badly—just as she knew that Caspar must have intended it to. After all, he knew better than anyone else how much the parental disinterest and neglect she had suffered as a child had hurt her and how determined she had always been that her children would grow up knowing they were loved.
'You don't have to work full time,' Caspar had pointed out to her when she returned to the family practice after Alex's birth. 'We could manage on less.'
'But not here in this house living the way that we do,' Olivia had replied sharply, unable to stop herself from defending her own decision. She was equally unable to explain to Caspar the
'No. Except for the fact that it really wasn't big enough for all of us,' Caspar had pointed out quietly, adding, 'What is it you're really trying to say, Livvy? I know that you're the major bread-winner of the family at the moment and that the bulk of the money for the car came from you, but if you're trying to suggest that I put pressure on you to buy a new car as some kind of macho ego trip, then—'
'No, of course I'm not,' Olivia had hastily denied, but as so often seemed to be happening these days, within seconds they were both stiff with hostility as they each took up a defensive stance.
It was impossible for her to explain just what it was that was causing her so much anxiety when all Caspar seemed to be concerned about were his own feelings and needs.
They had gone to bed that night in a mutually antagonistic silence, lying with their backs to one another, and, as had become an increasingly fre-quent event in recent months, neither of them had reached out to the other to make things up before they had fallen asleep. But why should she be the one to give in all the time, to make amends?
Surely if Caspar really loved her, he would see...understand...know...if he really cared...//
he really cared....
Olivia couldn't remember the last time Caspar had looked at her as though he loved her, touched her as though he loved her. They hadn't even had sex in weeks, never mind made love. Not that she wanted to have sex; she was so exhausted by the time she went to bed that it was the last thing on her mind. It seemed to be the last thing on Caspar's, as well—at least with her!
The previous weekend, just as she was on her way out of the house, she realised that she had forgotten her jacket. Hurrying back upstairs for it, she had rushed into the bedroom to find Caspar on the telephone, his voice soft with a laughter he had stilled the moment he saw her. He had quickly ended the call and hadn't offered her any explanation of whom he had been talking to. She, of course, had been too proud to ask him.
Last night's row was the worst they had had so far. She had come home from work after a particularly gruelling client meeting to be met with a furious accusation from Caspar of being a neglectful mother because she had forgotten to pick Amelia up from her after-school dancing class.
'But I rang the school and explained that I was going to be late and I left a message with Maddy asking if she could collect her for me,' Olivia had defended herself.
'You left a message ?' Caspar had cut across her explanations sharply. 'My God, Livvy, what's happening to you? Being a mother isn't something you can simply delegate to someone else.
Do you realise that Amelia had to ask the teacher to ring me because no one turned up to collect her? You do understand that anything could have happened to her if she hadn't had the sense to speak to her teacher...if she had for instance tried to walk home on her own.'
'I did my best,' Olivia had argued defensively.
Through the sick storm of guilt and fear for her daughter that was flooding her, she recognised the truth of what Caspar was saying.
'Did you? Well, you certainly may have done your best for yourself, but you didn't do your best for Amelia,' Caspar told her savagely.
His accusation that she had neglected her daughter's needs in favour of her own had hurt her badly—just as she knew that Caspar must have intended it to. After all, he knew better than anyone else how much the parental disinterest and neglect she had suffered as a child had hurt her and how determined she had always been that her children would grow up knowing they were loved.
'You don't have to work full time,' Caspar had pointed out to her when she returned to the family practice after Alex's birth. 'We could manage on less.'
'But not here in this house living the way that we do,' Olivia had replied sharply, unable to stop herself from defending her own decision. She was equally unable to explain to Caspar the
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