‘Come in,’ I said, cutting Raffy off in mid-farewell and unlocking the door. ‘That is, if it’s OK for vicars to be seen vanishing into single women’s houses straight from the pub at night?’
‘I got ordained, not elevated to sainthood, and I don’t think they excommunicate as long as the vicar is single too.’ He looked down at me in a puzzled sort of way. ‘But Jake will be there to chaperone us anyway, won’t he?’
‘No, he’s staying up at his girlfriend’s house tonight. I think her parents now want to adopt him.’
I led him through the workshop to the sitting room, flicking on lights as I went and dropping my coat and birthday presents on the nearest chair. Then I turned to face him.
‘What is it, Chloe? Do you want me to try and get your boyfriend out of Mann-Drake’s clutches?’ he asked, puzzled.
‘What? Oh, you mean David? No, it’s nothing to do with him. It’s just…well, there’s something I haven’t told you – something about us.’
His eyes on my face, he said slowly, ‘You know, I had an idea there might be something more, but I couldn’t imagine what.’
By now I was feeling my resolution starting to drain slowly away, but having started, I was determined to finish. ‘Poppy said recently that I was putting the blame for everything that had gone wrong in my life onto you, and she was right.’
‘Well, some of it probably was my fault and, if it’s any consolation, I don’t think there have been many weeks that have gone by since we parted when I haven’t regretted losing you, Chloe.’
‘It didn’t make you live like a monk, though, did it?’ I snapped, forgetting the whole forgiveness bit for a minute.
‘No,’ he said evenly, ‘it didn’t do that.’
I turned away and paced up and down, then swung round and faced him. ‘Look, Poppy thinks I’ll only be happy if I come to terms with everything, so here goes: as I told you, I realised as soon as I got back from university that I couldn’t leave Jake again. But I also discovered something else – that I was having your baby.’
He looked stricken and his already pale complexion completely blanched. ‘That explains a lot…it explains everything. Oh, Chloe!’
‘We were a bit careless that last week, weren’t we? All that arguing and making up,’ I said ruefully, though the tears were pricking painfully at the back of my eyes. ‘It wasn’t something I could put in a letter, but I thought when you came to find me I could tell you about the baby and somehow we could work it all out. I can’t imagine how – I couldn’t have left Jake behind, and you wouldn’t have wanted to be saddled with two children when you were just starting off on your career!’
Raffy had sunk down into a chair, his head between his hands, but at this he looked up. ‘But I never came back and you got Rachel’s lying letter instead…But the baby,’ he asked suddenly. ‘You didn’t…?’
‘I didn’t abort it. I hadn’t even got as far as wondering whether I wanted it or not, before I miscarried, right after I got Rachel’s letter.’
‘I wouldn’t have blamed you, whatever you chose to do,’ he said gently.
‘Only Zillah knew about it, because she helped me, though it was so early that it was quickly over…And I did want it – only I didn’t understand that until I’d lost it!’
My voice broke and the welling tears spilled over to run slowly down my face. Raffy sprang up, took one hasty stride and pulled me into his arms. ‘Oh, darling, I’m so sorry! So very, very sorry! I should have thought of that!’
I gave a sigh and rested my head against his broad shoulder, feeling quite drained and empty.
‘I don’t know how to make it up to you,’ he said helplessly.
‘You can’t, it’s past.’
‘But how can you ever fully forgive me? And can I forgive myself?’
I felt his lips brush my hair and without conscious thought turned mine up to meet them in a long, slow kiss. His arms tightened around me and time stood still, with the past, however temporarily, forgotten…
Then suddenly he wrenched away. ‘Oh God, I don’t know what I’m doing! I didn’t mean to—Oh hell, I seem to do nothing but say I’m sorry!’ He pushed his hair back from his pale face with both hands in that achingly familiar way.
‘I – it’s all right,’ I said, slightly dazedly.
‘No, nothing’s right. To think I felt angry with you all these years, and yet—’ He broke off again. ‘I’d better go. But at least now I understand and I promise not to bother you any more and keep out of your way as much as I can.’
‘No, really – I feel much better now everything’s open between us,’ I protested, which suddenly I did. It was like seeing a dark cloud lift, revealing an edge of light.
‘You’re very brave and forgiving, but I feel damnable – or damned – and I need to go and pray.’
I thought he might also have a few blasphemy issues to address too, but I didn’t say so, since he seemed distraught enough as it was.
He kissed me again, but this time very chastely on the forehead, while cupping my face in his hands, then out he went like a troubled spirit into the night.
The breeze brought the faint sound of a Bach fugue from the direction of the church where he was headed: I thought it would suit his mood wonderfully.
And it’s just possible that he’s not a cheap blended forastero chocolate after all, but a criollo.
Chapter Twenty-eight Home Alone
I woke up after a deep and dreamless sleep to an empty house, Jake being still at Kat’s. I felt…I didn’t quite know…empty, perhaps, and as if I’d undergone some great catharsis, which I suppose I had.
But I also felt anticipatory and about to embark on a new phase of my life. Last night I’d managed to crawl out of my shabby chrysalis of bitterness, anger and blame to emerge, if not as a carefree butterfly, then at least as a halfway decent moth. Poppy had been right: I could now move on.
Unfortunately, though, the previous night had also revealed to me just how easy it would be to fall in love with Raffy all over again, going by the traitorous way my body had responded to his. He had broken that kiss, not me. In fact, I’d probably kissed him and not the other way round.
But now I’d recognised the danger existed, I could guard against it, because there was no way I was making the same mistakes all over again. I would have to make it clear that a casual friendship was all I wanted and then the kiss could be forgotten.
Raffy took his early morning walk with Arlo as usual, but didn’t so much as glance sideways at Angel Cottage. The pale, translucent skin of his face was again shadowed and bruised under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept much, though this time I was sorry to see it.
Arlo was feeling friendlier, because he obviously wanted to cross over and call in. I suspect he had every house tagged where he’d been offered food.
Poppy rang me later, and I deduced that she was giving the first of her Saturday morning lessons in the indoor riding school, since there was the muffled thump of hoofs on sawdust in the background and every so often she removed her mouth from the phone and bellowed things like: ‘Change legs!’ ‘Trot on, George!’ and ‘Kimberly,