Chapter 8
The next morning, the silver and blue of the huge PanAm 707 jet became a black speck in the sky over San Francisco Bay. One of its passengers, a confused and hurt young girl, sat quietly crying as the plane began its long trip over the Polar cap to Sweden.
They watched as the train drew slowly to a halt. The doors of the Del Monte Express swung open and they craned their necks for the first glimpse of their daughter. Caine gripped Mona's arm. "There she is!" he cried, pointing to a pretty, dark-haired girl who stepped down and waved excitedly.
She dropped her suitcase and came running eagerly towards them, arms flung wide. Caine caught her up and swung her around, kissing her cheek and laughing.
"Anne!" Mona struggled to separate them, her hat knocked sideways as the trio embraced, reeling about the platform, arms about each other's necks. "Oh, it's so good to have you home again, darling! We've missed you so much!"
Holding hands, Anne in the middle, they walked to the car. "There's so much to tell you, Mummy," the girl said. "It seems like ages since I went away ... We've got two new teachers-oh and they're having a Parents' Day soon. You will be able to come, won't you?"
She chattered incessantly, trying to talk to both of them at the same time. All the way home, Anne gossiped about what had happened during her term at school, while Caine and Mona exchanged amused glances over her head.
She seemed to have grown up during her absence this time. The rather awkward schoolgirl who had left them three months ago in tears now looked remarkably self-possessed and assured. To his surprise, Caine felt a strong paternal pride in her. His daughter was an attractive, intelligent girl, he realized. It amazed him to think that he had hardly even noticed her before today ...
After dinner, Anne went to bed early-tired by the journey and the excitement of the reunion with her parents. Caine and Mona listened to her footsteps disappearing up the stairs, then turned to each other.
He kissed her affectionately and hugged her close to him. "I love you," he whispered and felt Mona's body strain against his.
Linking arms, they went into the living room and sat on the couch in front of the fireplace. The lights were dimmed.
Mona reached for his hand and squeezed it tightly. "No regrets, Caine?" she asked, looking up into his eyes.
He returned the pressure of her fingers. "No regrets," he replied softly.
They stared into each other's eyes for a moment, then Mona said: "You don't think we were too cruel to her, do you? She wouldn't do anything silly, like-"
Caine put his hand quickly over her mouth. "Of course not, darling." He moved his fingers to her neck and caressed it gently. "She was very upset by what happened. Naturally-she would be, but she'll get over it. She's very young and soon she'll look back on it and be glad of the experience."
Mona shook her head and looked doubtfully at him. "I wonder ... I don't think you knew her as well as I did, Caine. She was quite a highly-strung girl really. And I keep worrying that she might ... "
"Darling!" Caine drew her face next to his and kissed her firmly on the mouth. "Honestly, we've got enough to do getting to know each other better, without concerning ourselves about a girl that only visited with us for three weeks!"
"Come on, stop thinking about her so much. She's alright. Just be thankful it didn't turn out any other way. Think what we might have missed!"
He kissed her again, then nestled her head against his shoulder, stroking the long black hair. Mona closed her eyes and wound her arms about his waist, snuggling as close as possible to her husband. She wished with all her heart that she hadn't stood by while Caine had deliberately told Jacqueline that she was nothing but a little tramp; a whore; a perverted cheap ...
She tried to erase the memory of that horrible outburst but she knew that it would always be present in her mind. Why had he done it? There had been no necessity for him to be so cruel.
And yet ... and yet it had given them both a completely clean break from her. She saw that that was the reason Caine had behaved so terribly. If he hadn't driven her away so effectively there would always be the slight doubt in their minds that Jacqueline might turn up again and threaten their new-found happiness.
Only by rejecting her so savagely could they be quite sure that she would want nothing more to do with either of them ... ever ...
And by remaining silent Mona had implicitly rejected her as violently as Caine. She understood that now. Even if she wanted to, she could never again enjoy Jacqueline's trust and affection-or her love. The incision that Caine had made with his words had been sharp and deep, but perhaps, in the long run, it would prove merciful ...
She could only pray that Jacqueline would find some way to heal the wounds they had caused her. If she didn't-then they would be as guilty of her death as if they had plunged a knife into her ...
Caine was squeezing her hand. She opened her eyes and he got up from the couch, drawing her with him.
"Let's go up to bed, darling," he whispered. "I want to make the sweetest, gentlest love to you that I can ... "
He led her to the foot of the stairs and they paused for a moment. The hall light sent their shadows racing ahead of them-twisted, dark, elongated shapes that seemed to stain the stair carpet a forbidding black.
They walked quickly up to their bedroom, holding each other very tightly, a strange all pervading peace settling deep in their souls. No one else could ever, ever come between them again. After all, last night they had stood on the very, very top of the mountain together.